Poke'mon: The Untold Story
by Li Clark
Summary: It's been six years since Ash ran away from home, just as Misty leaves Cerulean City a young man names Shan appears, who is he? And how will Ash have changed? Read to find out.
1. AUTHOR

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Hey guys before I start this story, I want to say that I took this over from Kim Hoppy, Chapters 1-20 are hers. I want to thank her for giving me this chance to try and finish what she started. I hope I don't dissapoint.


	2. Chapter 1

Poke`Mon: The Unknown Story

Prologue: The death of Ash Ketchum

"Excuse me, miss."

Misty barely glanced up from the bag she had re-rearranging for the twelfth time.

"I'm sorry, Sir, but I can't battle at the moment. If you could wait, one of my sisters'll be here in a moment," she said in vague, polite voice, other things on her mind. Of course, she could battle, but Misty didn't want to.

"I don't want to battle."

She looked up through her longish bangs.

"Do you need any help, then?" she asked as she hefted up her bag and swung it over her shoulder in a wide arch. Luckily, this time the contents didn't spill out over the hall.

"Some directions or something?"

He shook his head slightly, pale-blond bangs hanging low on his head.

"No. I know where I am. I was just wondering if I could have the use of your pool for a moment. My water Pokémon need some time out of their Pokéballs, just to lounge. It's been a while for them." He looked ready to take either answer she could give, uncaring both ways.

Misty nodded slightly, looking at the face. It seemed familiar to her, like she had seen it recently.

"Well, I don't see why not, as long as no one needs to battle. Follow me."

"Thank you." The man waited until she started moving before he even budged, and Misty tried to keep up a conversation.

"Are you a water Pokémon expert?" she asked politely, trying to look at him from over her shoulder.

"No." It was said very simply, not conceded nor insulted in any way.

"Just traveling through Cerulean?"

"Yes."

Not much for conversation, Misty thought as they stepped into the stadium ring.

"Here we are. Do you need anything else?"

He had already slung off his pack and was opening it.

"No. I'm fine. Thank you." Within a few moments he had withdrawn almost twenty Pokéballs.

"How come you carry around so many?" Misty asked. His lifted his head to look at her with piercing blue eyes.

"Why shouldn't I?"

Misty blinked at the tone.

"Most trainers only carry around six, that's all I'm saying."

He nodded in apparent understanding, removing his intense gaze from her and turning it on the water. With a quiet and graceful ease, he released each Pokémon, one-by-one, filling the pool. Misty looked on, eyes wide, as one reared up.

"A Gyarados," she murmured in awe. The Pokémon's violet eyes looked down critically at her, then dived beneath the surface.

Misty thought she'd never live to see such beautiful Pokémon as in one place, swimming gracefully. She didn't even know what they all were, except that they were water Pokémon. They were all so sleek and healthy-looking, twirling under the water. Under such beautiful sights, Misty felt herself walking towards the edge to the pool to kneel closer to them, eyes shining.

She could have looked at them all day, but they paid her no mind. Once, just once, Misty pulled her eyes away from the Pokémon to look at their trainer, her smile flashing, but when she saw him, her smile dimmed. His shoulder-length blond hair was tied in a loose ponytail, and he wore black jeans and a long-sleeved blue shirt that did little to hide his lean, but muscular torso. Even while watching such spectacular displays, his profile looked vague and detached, although Misty thought she saw his eyes lighten. After that, even the Pokémon couldn't draw her gaze back. There was something about this trainer, his aura, which interested her in an unknown way.

He must have sensed her eyes on him, for he suddenly looked up, and they locked eyes. Under any other circumstances, Misty would have felt terribly embarrassed, but, then again, the eyes she would be looking at would have some kind of emotion behind them. These eyes had nothing that her own eyes could read. It was like the trainer was used to being the oddity.

In the end, Misty did look away. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the trainer turn back to look at his Pokémon, and then he recalled them back to their Pokéballs a few moments later.

"Thank you, miss," he said graciously. "I hope you have a good-day."

"Umm, you too, Sir."

He nodded as he shifted the pack on his shoulders, and then turned without another word.

Misty shook her head slightly as she shifted her own backpack, preparing for her own journey. Her sisters weren't here yet, and Misty knew she couldn't leave until they arrived to take care of the gym. Daisy had promised that they'd be back by five, and they had at least thirty minutes left. Part of Misty was thinking that it was very mean of them to actually be gone the full time. They knew she wanted to leave as soon as possible.

Misty strolled quickly to the garage and dragged out her bike, a very nice metallic blue in color. It wasn't cheap either. The bike had arrived at her last birthday from a friend of hers; the very one she had hopes on visiting. Rolling back and forth on it, Misty dimly recalled that this would actually be the first time she had seen him in a bit over five years. She could almost recall the exact second . . .

A voice broke through her reverie.

"Hey, Misty!"

Her headshot up and her foot slammed down, sending the bike speeding off. "Bye, Daisy! Violet! Lily! See you in a few days!"

"Say hi to Ash for us!" Violet called.

"I will!" She pedaled faster for the mere speed of it, the wind wiping back her bangs and trying to untwine her braid. She kept up the good pace until she was well out of Cerulean City. Her feet moved against the pedals on automatic, her mind wandering. Misty didn't want to think, and biking always managed to clear her head.

So out of it, it took Misty a full five minutes to comprehend what was almost a mile in front of her. She could she the flickering flames of the fire Pokémon, and there was a rider on it. With a spark of interest, Misty renewed her energy and pedaled faster to catch up with the pair.

"Hey!" she called when the rider was only a few yards ahead. The Rapidash was slowed down, and the rider turned in his seat.

Misty brought herself level, laughing at fate.

"You, again," she said to the blond man she had met earlier.

He nodded to her finding, no humor or interest in their meeting again.

"Hello."

Coasting, Misty looked at him. He didn't care, looking ahead and keeping the Rapidash at a steady trot.

"Nice Rapidash."

"Thank you." The fiery mane wiped the side of his face, and Misty noticed that his eyes were scanning the horizon for something.

"What are you looking for?"

"A Pokémon," he said levelly, uninterested in conversation. "And there she is. Right on time. YAH!" The Rapidash need no encouragement other than that, sprinting forward, leaving Misty in a cloud of dust. By the time the cloud had dispensed enough for her to see clearly, the blond rider was already halting the Rapidash under a tree a distance down the way.

Misty pedaled quickly to catch up. Now that she had a traveling companion, Misty wasn't going to let him go so easily, especially one that seemed to be an engaging enigma. Her eyes looked at the Pokémon in his arms.

"A Pikachu?"

"Yes. Mine. Did you do it?" he asked the tiny Pokémon.

"Pi!" Pikachu said happily, looking at Misty curiously with its brown eyes. "Pika chu pi?"

The blue eyes shifted towards Misty.

"Pikachu, this is—" Suddenly he stopped, blue eyes resting on her.

"Misty," she supplied.

The Pikachu leaped from her trainer's arms and onto the head of the Rapidash, looking happily at Misty.

"Piiiii! Pikapi chu, pikachu pi!" It bared her a large smile.

"Nice to meet you too, Pikachu," she smiled at the friendly creature. Her eyes drifted over to her trainer's, and she was slightly surprised to see him almost smiling.

"And who are you, sir?"

He looked at her. "I'm Shan." He bowed his head slightly. "Come on, Pikachu. Let's get going." He nudged Rapidash gently to get it to walk on.

"Where are you going?"

Shan shrugged. "We're just following the road."

"I'm going to Pallet Town," she informed him, even though he didn't ask. "Seeing an old friend."

He nodded slightly, seemingly thinking about something.

"Yes, you'd get there on this road." Again he paused. "Professor Oak lives there, correct?"

"Yes. I know him."

Again Shan nodded. "Maybe we will go there. I need my Pokédex updated." He paused. "So, you're visiting Professor Oak?" Misty chuckled, raising an eyebrow at him. So he does do conversation. "No, not actually him. A friend is supposed to be coming back. He's been gone a long time."

"What's his name?"

"Ash, Ash Ketchum."

"Can't say that I know him." Shan looked at the horizon. "Where'd he go?"

Misty shrugged, looking at her handlebar. "No one knows. He ran away."

"One of them, then."

Misty's eyes flashed. "What does that mean?" she demanded hotly. Shan gave her no response. "He's coming back. He said so."

"He told you?" Shan asked quietly.

"No. He promised his mom."

Shan turned his head slightly looked at her. "Strange." He blew a wisp of hair out of his eyes.

Misty found herself nodding without thinking about it. "Ash always wanted to be a Pokémon Master," she said.

"Poor reason to run away," Shan said stiffly.

"I used to follow him around on his journeys and stuff. He was like a little brother. An annoying little brother."

Pikachu looked down at her from Shan's shoulder. "Pika?"

Misty smiled up at it. "He had a Pikachu, too, but it ran away."

"Bad trainer, I suppose."

"No," Misty said sharply. She was surprised to see that the Pikachu was also glaring down at its trainer, as if scolding him for saying such a thing, true or not. "Ash was a good trainer, if a little dense and stubborn," Misty said quietly. "Pikachu ran away soon after we came back to Pallet. Ash was almost twelve, maybe a few months shy, I was fifteen, and Brock, a friend of ours, well, he was seventeen . . ."

Ash stood triumphantly at the crest of the hill, looking at Pallet, his hometown, with a mixture of pride and love. "HEY PALLET! I'M BACK!" he yelled happily, hands around his mouth in a makeshift megaphone.

"PIKA PIKACHU!"

"AND PIKACHU TOO!"

"Ash, shut up!" Misty ordered, smacking him on the back of his head. "Like anyone's happy you're back."

Ash made a face as he rubbed the back of his head. "You didn't have to hit me," he complained.

"If you wouldn't act so stupid—" she started, raising a fist.

"Guys, guys!" Brock yelled, jumping between them. "Come on, don't fight. I'm out of aspirin." They ignored him, as usual.

"I bet my mom's happy to see me, and Professor Oak," Ash stated.

"Ohh, wow!" she said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "Come on. Let's get going."

The argument quickly left Ash's mind as he ran past Misty down the hill and onto the path. "Come on, Pikachu!"

The Ketchum house was right on the edge of the town, and they could already see it. Ash ran in, calling,

"Mom! Mom!" as he ran through the house stupidly.

"I don't think anyone's home," Misty told him smugly as he slumped down the stairs, a tad downhearted at his lack of a welcome-home.

Ash nodded his agreement. "Maybe she went shopping or something with Mr. Mime."

Brock joined them after checking the ground floor, shaking his head. "Not with Mr. Mime. He's sweeping the kitchen floor. And he doesn't look too happy."

With a curious look, Ash and Misty stuck their heads in the kitchen. There, Mr. Mime was savagely swishing the dirt around the floor, the look of murder on its normally happy face.

"Ahh, I think I'll talk to Mr. Mime later," Ash sighed. "I know! Let's go visit Professor Oak. Maybe Mom went to visit him to look at my Pokémon."

"Your mom does have other things to do, Ash," Misty said in bored voice.

Brock held his head in his hand, waiting for a fresh fight, as was Pikachu. Ash, for his part, simply stuck out his tongue immaturely.

"Let's go, guys!" he urged, leaving the building almost as quickly as he had entered.

"Do you think we could put him on a leash?" Misty asked Brock in a tired voice.

"It'd have to be a chain."

"Pi," Pikachu agreed wearily, then started to follow its trainer.

Ash was impatiently waiting at Professor Oak's gates by the time they caught up, but he made no remark about their slowness. Instead he ran up the steps and knocked happily on the door.

"Hi, Professor!" he smiled broadly the second the door opened.

Professor Oak looked at him startled, but smiled cheerfully. "Hello Ash, Misty, Brock. And how's Pikachu? Come in come in. I suppose you'll be wanting your Pokémon, Ash."

"Huh, Professor? What are you taking about?" Ash asked confused as they followed the older man to the lab. Professor Oak literally stopped in his tracks.

"You don't know, Ash?" he asked in a concerned voice, turning to face them.

"Know what?" Ash responded.

"We just got back," Misty explained.

"Is something going, Professor?" Brock asked.

Oak looked down at them, a grim expression on his face. "Ash, I think you should go home and talk to your mother."

Ash was genuinely curious. "Why, Professor? What's happening?"

He looked like he was seriously debating whether or not he would explain everything. "Your mother'll explain it all to you," he said, ushering the dark-haired boy and his friends back towards the door, his voice no happier.

"Why can't you tell me?"

"It's not my place, Ash. I'll see you later."

"Okay, Professor," Ash agreed, still uncertain. The door was shut.

"What was that all about, Ash?" Misty asked, concerned. Something had to be seriously wrong if Professor Oak wouldn't tell them.

"I . . . I don't know," he admitted. "But I'm going to find out. Right, Pikachu?"

"Pi, Pikapi!" Pikachu agreed, leaping onto Ash's shoulder.

Misty noticed that Ash was less quick in returning back to his home, his mind clearing occupied with this current puzzle.

"What do you thinks going on?" she asked Brock while they walked in front of Ash. He shrugged.

"We'll know in a minute though."

Ash pushed open the door they had been at less than an hour ago, and timidly—Misty couldn't believe it—called out, "Mom? Mom!"

Misty saw Mrs. Ketchum sitting on the couch, her eyes red. The second her eyes fell on Ash, she leaped up and wrapped him into the tightest hug, crying fully. "Oh, Ash, you're back!"

"Mom! Mom, my friends!"

Mrs. Ketchum, of course, didn't care, and part of Misty realized that Ash didn't mind as much as he usually did.

"My little man, I'm so sorry!" she sobbed.

"Mom, what's wrong?" Ash demanded, worried.

She pulled away, drying her eyes with the back of her hand. "Nothing's wrong dear," she said both quickly and quietly.

"Then why—"

"Ash, you're going . . ." she choked, tears brimming with tears again.

"What?" he demanded. Misty would have loved to join in, but she couldn't get involved it this family matter.

"Hello, Ash," said a deep voice.

Misty, Brock, Pikachu, and Ash all turned to see a tall, imposing man, over six-feet tall and broad shouldered standing in the door frame to the kitchen. He had neat black and brilliant blue eyes, a long face and pointed nose. He was wearing a casual business suit and watching all of them critically. Well, Misty reasoned he was actually watching Ash and Mrs. Ketchum. He didn't even appear to notice her and Brock.

"D-d-d-dad," Ash stuttered, backing up against his mother, terribly surprised.

Misty could see it, the resemblance, if her mind stepped back. The pert nose and dark hair was there, but Ash had his mother's eyes and facial features. Ash would never be that broad-shouldered either, unless he worked out a lot.

"Get packed, Ash," his father ordered.

"Li," Mrs. Ketchum pleaded. "He doesn't even know what's going on."

"What is going on?" Ash demanded, his eyes wide with fear. "Mom?"

Mr. Ketchum, Li, looked at Ash. "I thought I made myself clear with my last statement. You're moving in with me."

"B-but why?" Ash questioned.

Mr. Ketchum narrowed his eyes. "You shouldn't question your parents."

"But why do I have to move in with you?" Ash implored.

The father's eyes, narrower than Ash's or Mrs. Ketchum's, studied his son, who hadn't budged from his mother's side. "Because I want you to."

"Why?"

Misty could see that Ash had asked the wrong question. Mr. Ketchum's eyes flashed and his face reddened.

"I can't see my own son?"

"You never did before!"

"Ash," Mrs. Ketchum said softly, touching his arm. "Listen to your father."

"Mom," he pleaded.

"Go get packed, Ash," she said quietly, looking at Mr. Ketchum.

"What about my Pokémon training?" he demanded to his mother.

"There won't be any more of that," Mr. Ketchum stated, even though the question wasn't directed towards him. Mrs. Ketchum couldn't look at her son.

"What?" Ash, Brock, and Misty both said at same time.

"Pi?"

"I can't stop training!" Ash yelled. "I'm gonna be a Pokémon Master!"

"No, you're not," Mr. Ketchum said levelly. "I'm not putting up with any of that."

Ash set his jaw. "Then I'm not going!"

"You, fortunately, have no power to back up that statement," Mr. Ketchum said calmly, but Misty could tell his patience was beginning to tried. "You are a spoiled brat how needs to learn about the real world. That is, of course, what I get for leaving you in your mother's care."

"Take that back!" Ash ordered, face almost as red as Mrs. Ketchum's.

"Chu!" Pikachu agreed, cheeks flashing.

"See what I mean. Impetuous, spoiled, used to getting your way." Mr. Ketchum looked at Ash critically. "Get your stuff."

"I told you I'm not going," Ash stated coldly. "And you can't make me." Misty could see him reaching behind his back for another Pokéball.

"ASH SATOSHI KETCHUM, don't you dare!" Mrs. Ketchum's voice rang clear and loud. Ash turned around wildly to look at him mother. "Get up stairs, and get your stuff." Misty was surprised at the amount of control Mrs. Ketchum had managed, her voice not once cracking.

"Mom!"

"Go!"

"But, Mom!"

"GO!"

Ash looked at his mom in disbelief, but ran up the stairs at her glare, Pikachu at his heels. Misty heard a door slammed shut.

Mr. Ketchum nodded at Mrs. Ketchum. "Thank you, Hanako."

Mrs. Ketchum didn't respond, turning around to bite her knuckle.

Shan slid off the Rapidash, letting it wander off to feed in the low light.

"So he had to go live his father." Shan didn't appear to be much on asking questions if he didn't have to, or talking for that matter. This was the first time he had spoken since Misty had started. Misty would have guessed he wasn't even listening to her rambled on, but something told her each time she had looked over at him that he was listening raptly.

Misty nodded as she shrugged off her pack to get her sleeping bag. "His parents were separated years earlier when he was like three, I think. His dad's a really successful businessman."

"But not a father."

"No, not a father," Misty agreed. "Mr. Ketchum sent money to Mrs. Ketchum to live on. Since Mrs. Ketchum didn't have a job, Mr. Ketchum had the right to take Ash under his sole custody."

"Feel sorry for his mom," Shan said as he lit a fire. Pikachu sat in front of it, sitting on its sleeping bag, still awake and ready to listen to more of the story.

"His mom really did take it hard," Misty agreed, hugging her knees under her chin.

"So what happened? He run away now?"

Misty shook her head, toying with her braid. "No, he didn't run away until almost a year later. Mr. Ketchum decided to leave the next morning, so Ash had all night to plead . . ."

He banged his hand against the table. "NO!"

"But why?" Ash demanded, not backing down. "Why can't I at least continue training?"

"You want to make your way into the world as a trainer?" Mr. Ketchum snapped. "How are you going to be able to support yourself on that? Support a family, should you ever get one?" Misty cringed into a tighter ball on the couch, listening from the living room, at the underlying meaning that she gathered from the words. She gripped the book she had been trying to read.

"It's what I want to do! And Pokémon Masters live well-enough!"

She figured Ash was probably guessing on that area, but it was true. The better you were, the more you made. Her sisters lived well enough as gym leaders. The tips of her fingers played against the tips of the pages.

"Only the best do! There's no life it that! It's a fool's fancy!"

"Then let me make that choice!"

"And ruin your life!"

"It's what I want to do! Damn it, why don't you understand that?"

"Don't you dare use that tone of voice with me, young man!"

"Then let me train and battle!"

"You won't! I don't want anything remotely related to Pokémon in my house!" Mr. Ketchum's voice turned low and dark. "You are going to return your—what is it called?—Pokédex to that crackpot—"

"Professor Oak isn't a crackpot! He's a world famous Pokémon researcher!" Ash screeched, angry at the reference to what Misty thought he must have seen as a substitute father figure in his life.

"You're going to return it. And all of your Pokémon, as well. None of them are stepping into my house."

"I'm not abandoning my Pokémon!" Ash swore. "Not like you left me!"

Misty shot her head up, almost dropping her book, and she could hear Mr. Ketchum hiss as he drew in a breath. He said something in a low voice, so low even Misty couldn't hear it. She jumped when there was a sudden strike of hand against flesh, and Ash yelping more from surprise than pain.

"Understand?" The voice was so cold Misty shivered.

Ash suddenly ran out of the kitchen and out the door, and Misty could see that he was crying. "Ash!" she called, setting the book aside. He didn't even stop to look at her.

She was just about to follow Ash when Mr. Ketchum's voice reached her ears. "Don't. Leave him be."

Misty narrowed her eyes, and then ran out the door, more to get away from Mr. Ketchum than to go after Ash. Mrs. Ketchum was standing, clutching her trowel tightly, looking in the direction Misty figured Ash had ran off in. His mother's eyes were red, and Misty noticed that the flowers that were going to be planted weren't even out of their pots. Mrs. Ketchum looked imploringly at Misty, and Misty made up her mind. It was just before dusk, with enough light out to see the shadows that could soon be free. "Ash!"

Nothing answered her, but Misty kept on searching until it was late, sun set and completely dark. It was then that she found Ash, curled up in the fetal position and crying. She touched his shoulder gently, and he jumped to look at her with his face drenched with his own tears, hair messed up, and face touched with dirt. His League hat was also missing.

"She's gone," he whispered, bottom lip trembling. His brown eyes were so wide, like a lost puppy's.

"Who's gone?" Misty whispered back, kneeling next to him.

He sniffed. "Pikachu. She's gone." He was suddenly unable to breathe. "I—I told her she couldn't come along! And—and she r-r-ran away. I can't find her, Misty! I can't!" He buried his head in his arms. "I looked, and looked, but s-she's gone! And it's all my fault! My fault."

"She'll come back, Ash," Misty promised.

He shook his head wildly. "No she won't. She w-won't. And it's my fault. I hurt my best friend!" Sobs raked his body, and he started to hiccup.

"Shh, shh Ash," Misty reassured. "She just needs time to think. She'll be back. Don't worry, okay."

"I—I can't t-train anymore, M-misty," he whispered. "I c-c-can't." He dug his fingers in his hair.

Misty bit her lip, knowing how much that fact would hurt him, almost as much as Pikachu's departure.

"Come on, Ash. Let's get back to the house." She tried to pull him up, but he wouldn't budge. "Come on!" she urged, again trying to heft him up, but he remained stubborn.

He shook his head. "No, I'm st-staying here. Just g-go away." He turned away from her, curling up against the tree.

"Ash," she started, not unkindly. "You can't—"

"Misty," interrupted a gentle voice. Misty turned her head to Mrs. Ketchum standing there with a lamp in one hand and a blanket draped over her other arm. "Go to back to the house. We'll be okay." She knelt down by her son, who hadn't even acknowledged her presence. "Come on, honey," she murmured, wrapping the blanket around him.

Misty backed away and watched as Ash turned towards his mom, as she wrapped an arm around him, and as she petted his hair he cried freely. Mrs. Ketchum murmured small, wordless reassurances like a mother would do to console a child who had just witnessed a sighting of the bogeyman. The way the light and shadows danced over the display, it played with the proportions. Ash looked like a young boy, maybe three, so small and fragile, it made the statement seem all the more true.

It was a sight. Ash cried, Misty knew it; when his Pokémon did such things as show their loyalties to him, but the 11-year-old was more withdrawn when it came to his own feelings. On some level it was disturbing to see such a strong person broken to this extent. Mrs. Ketchum slowly started to rock him back and forth, heedless of his age, trickles of tears also from her own eyes. They were all each other had known, and they were being ripped apart. Misty turned her head away from the scene and walked away.

Later, after Misty found she couldn't sleep, she walked over to the window, and over by a tree she could see a light flickering, two figures next to it.

And Misty cried.

By the time breakfast came the next morning, Misty had managed to get some sleep. Ash and Mrs. Ketchum were already at the table, sitting side-by-side. Mr. Ketchum sat across from them. Misty saw that Mrs. Ketchum was holding Ash's hand tightly under the table and neither of them were looking up. Brock was cooking in the kitchen, and it was deadly quiet.

Mr. Ketchum set down his chopsticks. "Are you ready?"

"He still has to return his Pokédex and Pokéballs to Professor Oak," Mrs. Ketchum said quietly. Ash winced at the words like they were a whip.

"Is that all?" Mr. Ketchum asked, glaring at Mrs. Ketchum for speaking on behalf of her son. Ash nodded mutely, still not looking up.

"P-prof-fessor O-oak said he was going to c-c-ome over," Ash whispered. "I c-c-called."

Mr. Ketchum nodded with a passing breeze of respect. "Good. After that's done, we're leaving. I've already put your stuff in the car." Again Ash nodded mutely.

"Does anyone want seconds?" Brock asked.

"What time is this Oak fellow coming?" Mr. Ketchum asked, holding his plate up to Brock.

Ash shrugged, looking at his untouched food. Brock had purposely made his favorite—chocolate chip pancakes—and Ash hadn't even given them the usual drool.

"Where do you live, Mr. Ketchum?" Misty asked, unable to put up with Ash's sadness. "Maybe Brock and I could visit Ash." Ash raised his eyes to look at his friends, and both of them gave him a smile. The corners of his mouth quirked up momentarily.

"I doubt it," Mr. Ketchum said smoothly. "I live over in Ziganka, on pretty much the opposite side of the world."

"Oh." Misty's eyes went over to Ash, who looked even more pitiful. She wished she had never asked.

There was a knock at the door. Mr. Ketchum wiped his mouth. "That must be Oak. Get up, Ash and get it over with."

"'Es, sir," Ash muttered, standing up from the table, eyes still downcast as he walked towards the living room. He opened the door soundlessly. "Hi, Professor Oak. Oh, hi, Gary."

"Hello, Ash."

"Hey, Ash." It was definitely Gary's voice, but it seemed nicer.

Mr. Ketchum stood up and made his way to the kitchen, everyone following. Misty watched as he gave a wide smile and extended his hand. "Ah, you must be the famous Professor Oak I've heard about." It was so fake it made her sick.

"Why, hello," Professor Oak smiled, shaking the hand. "You must be Mr. Ketchum. I'm sorry to say I don't know much about you. This is my grandson Gary, a fellow Pokémon trainer like Ash." Oak smiled at the two boys, but his eyes lingered on Ash, worried about the change in character.

"That's the reason my son called you over here. He has something to give you." He set his hands on Ash's narrow shoulders.

Oak smiled at Ash. "What is it, Ash?" He was probably expecting a good-bye or something.

Misty watched as Ash froze. Mr. Ketchum nudged his son, and slowly Ash dug into his pocket. "Here, Professor," he whispered, barely audible. He held out his Pokédex and Pokéballs.

Both Professor Oak and Gary looked at Ash, shocked. "What are you doing, Ketchum?" Gary demanded.

"I'm giving back my Pokédex," Ash whispered, not meeting their gazes. "I won't need it. I'm not going to be Pokémon Master. Here, Professor."

Oak took them slowly, waiting for Ash to laugh and say, "Kidding." He was even more shocked when Ash didn't.

"Are you crazy, Ketchum!" Gary charged, stepping forward. "How can you just give up!" Ash didn't answer. Oak set his hand on Gary's shoulder, as he was infuriated by Ash's silence.

"Come on now, Ash," Mr. Ketchum said, pleased. "It's time to leave." He pushed his shocked son forward, towards the door.

"Grandpa, what's going on?" Gary demanded.

"I don't know," Oak said quietly. "I don't know."

Outside, Mrs. Ketchum was standing at the door, and she hugged her son so tightly Misty was surprised he could still breathe. Ash was crying again, quietly.

"If you see Pikachu, or if she comes back, you'll take care of her?" he whispered hopefully. Mrs. Ketchum nodded.

"Ash, if you ever want, you can have you're Pokémon back," Oak stated. Ash nodded dumbly, although he must have known it would never happen, just judging by the look his father gave him.

Gary smirked suddenly. "But, if you're not taking them back, I'd be happy to train them for you."

"Gary!" Oak snapped quietly. Now was not the time for that.

Misty and Brock both looked at Ash, waiting for his reaction. Gary was smirking when Ash finally took a step forward. Gary closed his eyes, like he was waiting for Ash to punch him. "You do that, Gary," Ash said hoarsely. Gary's eyes snapped open in surprise, as did everyone else's except Mrs. Ketchum's. "They've gotta get trained, and . . . and I know you'll be a great Pokémon Master. Good luck." Ash held out his hand.

Gary took it, still in shock. The smirk was gone, and disbelief was written on his face.

"Come on, Ash," Mr. Ketchum said impatiently from inside the car.

"Bye Misty, bye Brock," he whispered, but he stepped back when Misty made to hug him. "Good bye."

"Bye, Ash," Brock said, nodding.

She looked at him puzzled for not accepting her hug. "Bye."

Ash turned around slowly and started to walk towards the car. His eyes slowly started to scan the fields, and Misty knew he was looking for Pikachu. Ash probably figured he could maybe beg his father into it at the last minute with all the witnesses, or maybe hide the mouse until then. "Good bye, Pikachu," he whispered, then climbed in the open door.

They all watched the car go off. Ash didn't even look out of the window, but sat looking down at his feet.

Mrs. Ketchum stood there crying.

Misty looked up from the fire, which had transfixed her attention as she told the story. Shan was also looking off in the distance, holding Pikachu, who had started crying during the story.

"I saw him just once after that," she finished quietly.

Shan nodded, looking at her with his blue eyes, "Was it hard?"

"For everyone."

Again Shan nodded, petting Pikachu, who was looking up at her trainer with wide, wet, brown eyes. "It still isn't my place, but I don't think that's much of an excuse for running away."

"Pikapi?" Pikachu looked up at her trainer, then over at Misty, waiting for her response.

Misty yawned. "I told you he didn't run away until he was with his father for over a year, about a year and a half."

"My mistake," Shan said quietly. "You might want to get some sleep. It's late enough as it is."

She nodded, crawling into her sleeping bag without an argument. Her eyes watched as Shan carefully set Pikachu over to the tiny sleeping bag.

"Sleep well, old friend," he murmured, petting her head.

"Chu, Pikapi."

He smiled slightly, shadows dancing across his face. Shan made his way towards his own sleeping bag.

"Shan?"

"Hmm?" he replied, opening his own bag.

She propped her head against her hand. "Where are you from?"

"I don't have much of a home life," he said calmly. "I was originally from around here though, a long time ago. But my parents decided to transfer me to a better district."

She nodded, looking at his profile. "You know, you look familiar."

Shan stiffened. "You might have seen me on TV," he replied quietly. "The last three League games."

Suddenly she remembered. "You're the one who won for the past three years! And you turned down the offer to join the Elite!" Shan nodded slightly, as if unhappy that she had remembered him. "Are you a Master, then?" He seemed old enough to be, and his current standing with the League was a pretty good indication.

"Trainer. I'll always be a trainer, always something to learn." He laid down under the fabric, then looked up into the night sky. "I used to dream of being the greatest, but then I found out there's always someone better. You can only hope to be the best you can be. No, I'll never be a Master, as least not to myself, Miss Gym Leader." He spoke his words smoothly, believing every word of it.

"Why did you turn down joining the Elite? Everyone wants to join them."

"What's the point?" Shan asked quietly. "I don't have to be a gym leader or part of a group to be good. I know I'm good, but I'm not going to be comfy sitting on the top. People are always getting better, and the best way to keep my skills up is to keep traveling."

"Ash wouldn't say that," Misty sighed.

He didn't roll to face her, still looking up at the stars. "You think so?"

She nodded. "He'd say you can be better, I suppose, but he'd consider himself a Master if everyone else did. He was always so sure of his skills. It was kind of annoying after awhile. He always seemed to win by a stroke of Luck, if you ask me, and the wins went right to his head most of the time. If he had the chance to join the Elite, he'd have joined in three seconds flat."

"Sounds like a pretty confident kid. You got to be confident in this line of work." Misty blinked in surprise for a moment, for the first time hearing Shan stick up for Ash.

"This year I'm not going to the League," he continued. "At least I don't plan to. I think it'd be best to give the honor to someone else."

Misty turned her head at the trainer. "That's sweet of you." Shan shrugged. "Do you think Mr. Ketchum was right, about Pokémon training being a fool's folly?"

"Everything's foolish, even not attempting," Shan said quietly. "He was probably just protecting his son from a very harsh reality. This is not the easiest thing to do. That's why you start so young."

She snorted. "I never could figure out Mr. Ketchum. Why wouldn't he even let Ash have Pokémon, and sending him to that school?"

"Hmm." Shan closed his eyes.

"I can't wait to see him again though," Misty smiled. "You'd like Ash, provided he doesn't annoy you too much."

"Maybe I'll say hi," Shan said vaguely.

Misty smiled. "Good night, Shan."

"Good night, Misty."

She rolled in her bag, closing her eyes.

It seemed that no sooner had she closed them a noise made her open them. A sweet, enchanting tone tickled her ears, and she rolled over, pushing herself up.

Eyes closed, his side towards the rising sun, Shan sat playing a flute, his fingers dancing nimbly over the keys. Misty sat up, hugging her knees, and closed her eyes to let the music course her veins. Pikachu was at Shan's side on a rolled up sleeping bag, rocking to the music. In the meadow, Rapidash perked its ear to listen as well. All of the birds were quiet, and it seemed like the notes the flute made controlled the very light from the sunrise.

When the music suddenly stopped, Misty's eyes snapped open. She watched as Shan set the instrument back into a tiny case, then closed it carefully. It took her a while to find her voice.

"That was beautiful," she whispered.

He made no motion. "It helps me think," Shan finally replied, sounding slightly embarrassed at something, whether it be her comment or listening to him play. "It's the only thing I can really play on the thing, took me how many lessons to learn. And the Pokémon seem to like it. It has a very soothing effect on them."

"On everyone," she corrected. "Where'd you learn?"

"At school. It was the only instrument they had left." His blue eyes looked at her, and there was a flash of a smile. "Sorry to have woken you, but I prefer to play at dawn."

"It's all right," Misty smiled. "How long have you been up?"

"Almost an hour. Breakfast?" He tossed her a packet from his bag.

"Thank you." She opened it carefully, watching trainer. She must have been talking since eleven, and the sun rose at five, maybe, so he'd had about six hours of sleep.

"Pi chu pika?" Pikachu asked her. Misty looked at the yellow mouse unsure.

"She wants to know if you're going to continue your tale of woe," Shan translated quietly. "She likes a good story." His eyes also looked up at her briefly, as if wondering the same thing but too withdrawn or polite to ask as well.

Misty looked at the tiny Pokémon, its eyes eager as it sat next to its trainer. It seemed nice to get it all out in the open, the whole story, to remember the incidents that led up to Ash's departure. And Shan listened like a quiet well, drawing in all of her words and echoing them in his head.

She twirled the breakfast nugget through her fingers. "Me and Brock visited him a little bit over a month before he ran away, or when we think he did. I knew Ash wasn't that happy there, but he wasn't that sad either," she shrugged. "It took us a long time to save up—all off the past year—and even then Mrs. Ketchum chipped in. We invited her along, but she said she wouldn't be welcomed. Anyway, we came on a Saturday . . ."

"Wow," Misty whispered, looking at the massive and ornament building. "Are you sure this is the right address, Brock?"

He nodded, although he too was double-checking the numbers Mrs. Ketchum had given them. "This is it. Ready?"

Misty smiled deviously, hefting her bag. "He's gonna love this, I know it!"

They walked up the path, which was trimmed with some of the most flowers Misty had ever seen. The duo was still getting used to the large, but seemingly hidden city of Ziganka. Skyscrapers didn't destroy the horizon so much as enhance it, and there wasn't a trace of smog anywhere. The air was fresh, and, although a seemingly large city, there weren't a lot of people crowding the streets. The countryside was spacious and well groomed, for a lack of a better word.

"You knock," Misty said hesitantly when they reached the large door. Brock rolled his eyes, but obliged.

The door was opened promptly, a friendly, plump middle-aged woman in a black dress standing there.

"Yes. May I help you?" she inquired, looking at them skeptically.

"We were wondering if we could see Ash?" Brock said politely.

Her suspicious nature suddenly melted. "You must be Misty and Brock," she smiled warmly. "Ash has told me so much about you."

Misty smiled back at her. "That's us. We were just in the area—" the maid looked at her skeptically, and she blushed, "—we decided to boot the fare over here and say hi."

"I thought so." The maid sighed. "Well, I'm sorry, but Ash isn't here right now. He's at school."

"On a Saturday?" Brock question incredulously. The maid smiled at them hopelessly.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I'm Ms. Roads, but you can call me Carmen. Just the cook and maid of the place. Come in come in. I just made a light lunch."

Brock and Misty walked in, and Carmen shut the door soundlessly behind them. The room they had entered was enormous, lit by a crystal chandelier overhead. The decor wasn't overdone, but it plainly said that the master of this house was in the money.

"Follow me, please. I know Ash was surprised at the home too."

"Umm," Misty started as they followed the woman. "What time does he get home?"

"Five o'clock, just in time for supper." Carmen set them down on two stools and quickly cut them a sandwich. "How long will you be staying?"

"Our plane leaves tomorrow. It was all we could afford," Brock answered as he took the plate. "Thank you."

"Thanks."

Carmen looked at them. "So you came all the way just to see Ash?" They nodded mutely. "He's a good kid, a little quiet."

Misty choked on her sandwich. "Ash? Quiet?"

"He keeps to himself mostly, very introvert," Carmen nodded. "But he'll be so happy to see you. In fact," her eyes strolled over to the basket. "Why don't you go see him now?"

"Pardon?" Brock questioned, leaning forward.

Carmen picked up the basket. "I usually deliver him lunch, but today my chores just seem to be piling up," she stated in mock remorse. "Would it be too much to ask you to deliver his lunch?"

"We'd love to," Misty smiled broadly.

"Good," Carmen sighed, shoving the basket against Brock. "I'll send Ken around to drop you off. Just go wait outside by the front door, same way you came in." With that, she bustled out of the kitchen and out of sight.

"Ash has to go to school on a Saturday?" Misty repeated, making a face.

Brock looked at her as they tried to find their way back to the door. "What's this about him being quiet, huh?" He smiled weakly.

By the time they stepped out onto the front stepped, the car—limo was waiting for them, door opened. A kind-faced man smiled down at them. "You must be Ash's friends, correct?" He rolled his R's, making it sound like he purred.

"That's us," Brock nodded, carefully sitting down and scooting so Misty could follow. Ken closed the door behind them politely.

"Off to Z.P.S.," Ken smiled, looking in his mirror at them as they started off.

"Z.P.S.?" Brock repeated.

"Ziganka Private School," Ken replied. "One of the best schools in the world."

"Does Ash like it?" Misty asked, pulling her eyes of the passing scenery.

Ken shrugged. "No kid likes school, ma'am. He'd rather be home instead of at school from eight to five six days a week, I'll bet." He looked up at them. "We're almost there."

The passengers nodded. "Where would Ash be?" Misty asked suddenly, looking at the basket on Brock's lap.

"Usually he's by the fence, next to the tree doing his homework, ma'am." Ken pulled up into a driveway. "In fact, there he is, if I'm not mistaken."

Both Misty and Brock pressed their faces against the glass, trying to find their old friend. "Where?"

"Right there, in the back," Ken said, opening their door and helping them out. "See?" He pointed over in the distance at a solitary figure that was working out of a book. "Would you like me to take you back, or would you like to stay with Ash?"

"We'll stay," Brock said. "That's for the ride over though."

"Just doing my job," he smiled, sitting back into the driver's seat. "Hope you have fun." Ken then drove off.

"Brock, open the basket," Misty ordered as she took her bag off her shoulder.

"What are you doing?"

She smiled wickedly. "Just think what he'd do if he saw his Pokémon in here!" Brock grinned back. "Come on," she urged, closing the lid carefully.

They walked along the edge of the green, avoiding the games of the students, but unfortunately not their stares. As they drew closer to the figure, Misty could see that it was Ash, except his hair was neater, cut short, and was wearing a uniform like everyone else at the school, a suit. He still hadn't looked up from his book, except when he occasionally wrote something down on a notebook at his side.

"Hey, stranger," Brock smiled.

Ash literally jumped, his head snapping over towards them. "Guys?" His voice sounded a tad different, deeper.

"Hi!" Misty chirped. "Bet you didn't think you'd see us again, huh? Well you're wrong! You still haven't paid me back for that bike, Ash Ketchum!" She laughed.

"What are you doing here?" he laughed, jumping up, eyes shining.

"Delivering your lunch. Here, take a look. We added something." Brock winked at Misty as he handed the basket over.

Ash took it suspiciously. "What'd you do to it?" he asked as he turned the basket over.

"We didn't do—"

"Hey, Ketchum, who are your friends?" demanded a voice. Misty and Brock both turned to see a blond-haired, blue-eyed boy standing there, surrounded by a little mob. Ash frowned at the boy, not answering. "Where are your manners? Introduce us."

"This is Misty Waterflower, from Cerulean City, and this is Brock Harris, from Pewter City. They're my friends," Ash said lowly. "Brock, Misty, this is Tom."

Tom looked the over critically. He was younger than Misty and Brock, probably Ash's age, but that didn't stop his cockiness. "Don't look like much."

"You wanna say that to me, now?" Misty demanded, raising a clenched fist.

"Easy, Misty," Brock sighed, shaking his head. "We didn't come to fight."

"I could beat you," Tom challenged Misty.

Misty narrowed her eyes at the upstart. "You just go on believing that." She then turned to Ash, purposely ignoring the brat. "So, Ash, how have you been? You're mom's pretty well. Mr. Mime and her have planted this beautiful garden."

Ash was going to answer, but several students had erupted into fits of laughter. "His mom's got a Pokémon!" Ash's face reddened with anger.

"And what's so bad about Pokémon?" Brock demanded.

Tom looked at them critically. "Nothing. It's just that they're so . . . childish. But then again, you would know about that, wouldn't you?"

"Misty and Brock were gym leaders," Ash snapped. "Where are you're manners?" This even caused more laughter to spew from everyone's lips, and Misty and Brock narrowed their eyes at them. Ash was trembling with barely controlled anger.

"How quaint," Tom smiled at them.

"Listen," Ash gritted. "You'd better—"

"Ash! Don't!" Brock and Misty yelled at the same time, but it was too late. Ash had already thrown the basket, and it hit the ground hard.

"Oh, no," Brock groaned.

The Z.P.S. students were cowering back as the Pokémon were released. Charizard let out an especially angry roar, fire raging from its jaws. Squirtle was rubbing its head, and Bulbasaur was looking less that thrilled. Snorlax was, well, snoring; Muk was bobbing up and down. Ash, however, was standing there, eyes wide and mouth open.

"Charizard! Bulbasaur! Squirtle! Muk! Snorlax!" he yelled. They all turned their heads to look at him, and then rushed to offer their welcomes. They smashed into him as one, and Ash tumbled down, laughing. "I've missed you too!"

"We thought you would," Brock laughed, helping him up, Muk still hugging the younger boy's legs.

"It was your mom's and Professor Oak's idea!" Misty added.

"We couldn't bring all of them, of course. Professor Oak is having them do a few studies for him, and he's having a conference at him house with important discussions on Pokémon, and then supper later on."

Misty laughed. "He insisted we bring Muk! And Snorlax."

"Look at them." Ash's eyes were shining. "Are they being trained?"

"No. Professor Oak wouldn't let Gary. Of course, Gary wasn't going to do it anyway. Something about Charizard." Misty winked at the lizard.

The fire lizard roared quietly, sending a small gust of smoke out of his nostrils.

"So, Mister Trainer, care to battle?" Brock smiled.

Ash looked over at Brock, startled. "I don't battle anymore," he said quietly.

"SAUR!" Bulbasaur yelled, vine whips ready.

The trio looked at the grass Pokémon, who had gone defensive towards the Z.P.S. Apparently one had thrown a rock on it, for it was nursing a bump on its head.

"Hey, Bulbasaur, easy," Ash commanded gently. "You're tougher than that."

"Doesn't look like much," Tom said. "It's just a little—AHH!" He screamed as Muk prepared to say hi in its own mucky way. "Get this disgusting thing away from me, Ketchum!"

Ash couldn't give any such command, too busy laughing. "Muk still likes people, and still not too choosy. Come on, Muk, get off!"

"Muk, muk!"

"You know the rules, Ketchum! You aren't allowed to bring Pokémon on the property!" Tom sneered. Brock and Misty suddenly looked at each other, immediately aware of the trouble they had gotten Ash into.

"Ash didn't. We did," Misty retorted.

Tom grew enraged at her saying he was wrong. "They're his, then. Lil' Ketchum's in big trouble for this one."

Brock and Misty both looked at Ash, who didn't deny the fact, his face paler.

Charizard growled deeply, eyes narrowing on Tom. The other Pokémon followed the lizard's suit.

"Actually, Ash doesn't have any Pokémon," Brock stated after a moment. Misty waved her hand behind her back at the Pokémon, telling them to keep it up. Professor Oak had explained, or tried to, the situation to them, but they were all still very loyal to Ash. "These are actually Professor Oak's."

"Look like his," snapped a student.

"I'm not allowed to own Pokémon," Ash said lowly, eyes narrowed. "These were mine, but I gave them to Professor Oak."

Tom's face reddened. "Pokémon are stupid, and only those who can't make it in the real world train or study them!"

"Or breed them," Brock added darkly.

"Or raise them," Misty said just as dark.

The Pokémon were also now staring angrily at the troupe, even Muk. Ash's arms were crossed, eyes narrowed. "This is from someone who has never battled in a competition."

"Doesn't look hard," some piped up. "You send that dragon thing out to whip its butt."

Misty smiled evilly. "And I take a little star and tell it to Water Gun it. Fire types are weak against water, and Charizard is no exception. Sure, he could beat Starmie, maybe."

"Or I could use Onix," Brock mussed. "It wouldn't be that hard of a battle."

The lizard growled at the two trainers who were betting its defeat, who laughed nervously.

"Of course, Charizard is at a very high level," Brock added quickly.

Tom looked unimpressed. "Still for losers. Right, Ketchum?"

Ash narrowed his eyes. "Battle against me and we'll see who the loser would be," he said lowly.

"I don't plan to stoop to that level," Tom sneered. "But if you like," he smiled, rolling up with sleeves, "we can fight."

"WHAT ARE THOSE CREATURES DOING ON SCHOOL PROPERTY?" demanded an authoritative voice. The group whirled around to see a man in a suit storming down on them.

"They're Ash Ketchum's, Headmaster Dell," Tom smiled innocently.

The mustached man turned on Ash, who paled under the glare. "Really?"

"We brought them," Misty explained quickly. "And they're not really his."

Headmaster Dell looked them up and down. "Who are you?"

"We're Ash's friends, visiting," Brock said. "I'm Brock, and this is Misty. We weren't aware of the no Pokémon policy on school grounds, and we brought them here. Ash didn't even know."

"They're lying, Headmaster," Tom smiled. "And Ash challenged me to battle him."

Ash said nothing to his defense, and Misty, thinking about it later, was really surprised.

Dell looked at the accused trio, at Ash especially. "You three, come with me. And put those creatures in their little rooms."

They nodded and quickly gathered up the Pokéballs and returned them, while Headmaster Dell disassembled the crowd. "Ash, why didn't you say anything?" Misty hissed. "That jerk is getting you in trouble."

Ash shrugged as he recalled Snorlax, who had been munching on the meal in the basket. "It wouldn't have mattered. But thanks for bringing them." He paused for a moment. "Did you ever find . . .?"

Misty and Brock looked at each other hopelessly. "I'm sorry, Ash, but no one's seen Pikachu at all."

He nodded, turning away quickly.

"Come on, you three," Dell ordered. They all followed him into the school, the schoolyard snickering at their punishment. Dell led them to a room, his office, and had them sit in the chairs in front of his desk, Ash sitting in the middle. Sitting across the desk, Dell looked at them all intently.

"Look, we're sorry," Misty started. "We didn't know."

"Ignorance is no excuse," Dell stated firmly. "You should have asked before you did some an action. Do you know how many students could have been hurt with those creatures around?"

"They wouldn't have hurt anyone," Brock said. "They were just scaring the kids for talking trash about them. Even Charizard wouldn't attack, and that's saying something." Dell looked at him blankly.

"Look, what we're trying to say is that it's not Ash's fault," Misty said. "He didn't even know we were coming. That Tom kid is just a liar."

Dell sat back to look at all three of them. Misty and Brock were both staring back defiantly at him, but Ash was tracing a finger on his pants. "Even still, a very important rule of the school was broken."

"We're sorry!" Misty said. "We'll leave, but understand Ash didn't do anything."

The headmaster nodded. "You're right, you will leave school grounds. I can send a car around to take you back to the Ketchum residence." His eyes lingered on Ash. "Ash won't have it so easy, thanks to your thoughtless actions." Dell shook his head, almost sadly. "What is this, the eighth time?"

"Twelfth," Ash corrected quietly, still not looking up.

"Yes, the twelfth," Dell agreed dutifully, seemingly unhappy that Ash had corrected him. Ash never was a good liar, though. "I told you last time what would happen."

"Yes, Sir."

Brock and Misty were shocked. "Ash didn't do anything!" Brock roared. "Whatever you're going to do, do it to us. We'll wash and clean or whatever."

"Brock will even repair the roof!" Misty added.

Dell ignored them, picking up a phone. "Ms. Barlo, please send a car around the front. Thank you." He pressed another key, looking at the two upset friends. "Please leave. This no longer concerns you."

"But—"

"Guys, just go," Ash said quietly, eyes closed.

They looked at him. "Ash, we're sorry," Misty whispered. "We didn't know."

"I know. Thank you, anyway." He turned his head and gave them a small, forced smile. "It's just a meeting with my father. No biggie." His eyes told a different story. "I'll see you at supper. Okay?"

They couldn't do anything else. "You bet, man," Brock promised.

"I felt so guilty," Misty admitted as she coasted on her bike. "I still do."

Shan shrugged. "You didn't know. There's nothing you can do about it. And Ash didn't seem that mad at you. A little trouble was probably worth seeing his friends and Pokémon again."

"Pi."

Misty sighed. "Even still, we got him into a lot of trouble. Man, I wasn't at the meeting, but I saw Mr. Ketchum when he got home, and he was not pleased." Shaking her head, Misty elaborated. "I mean, it was crazy. He just . . ."

The door was slammed shut, followed by a bout of enraged yelling. "I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU! I WAS RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF A VERY IMPORTANT MEETING AND I GET A CALL FROM YOUR HEADMASTER!"

Carmen looked up from her tray of tea at the two guilty guests, who were eating their soup as quietly as possible. Mr. Ketchum and Ash were over an hour late, coming in at six. "The masters are home," she said lightly.

"You'd better wait in here until it blows over."

"'Orry." Ash's voice was barely audible.

"SORRY'?! IS THAT ALL YOU CAN SAY? SORRY! I PROBABLY LOST AN CRUCIAL CONTRACT THANKS TO YOU!"

"'Orry."

"When the hell are you gonna grow up?" Mr. Ketchum demanded, less loud but still as angry. "Is that an I-Don't-Know shrug? Well?"

"'Es."

"Poor kid," Carmen murmured, pouring another ladle into Brock's plate.

"We shouldn't have come," Misty whispered, cringing as Mr. Ketchum attacked Ash's response.

"I'll tell you when you're gonna grow up—RIGHT NOW! It's time for you to get your damn head out of the bloody clouds! You're gonna be out in the real world soon enough, and blasted Pokémon aren't going to help you!" The voice suddenly stopped, as if gauging how much the words had affected his son. It seemed that it wasn't enough. "Damn it, what should I have expected?" he huffed spitefully. "Leaving you in your mother's care for so long. You're just as flaky as she is. Like mother, like son."

Maybe Mr. Ketchum went a step to far, for Ash suddenly yelled back, "Better than being 'like father, like son!'"

"Really?" Mr. Ketchum said icily.

"Yes! I'd rather be like mom than you!"

"In the real world your mother wouldn't have lasted a second without my help, and neither would you, young man!"

Ash barked a cruel laugh. "I don't recall asking for your help, or asking to come here, or going to that damn school, or to stop training! So why don't you send me back to Mom and get back to your precious contracts and meetings. It's all you ever loved anyway!"

"I don't care for your attitude, young man," Mr. Ketchum growled.

"And I don't care for you!" Ash responded. "In fact, I hate you! You ruined by life!"

"I gave you a life!"

"You took my life away!"

Carmen picked up her tray. "That's my cue," she murmured, then walked out of their sight. Her cheerful voice filled the room. "Tea, anyone?"

"Ms. Roads, did anyone call for me?" Mr. Ketchum asked.

"Yes. The Board was wondering—"

"See! Work comes first for you!" Ash screeched highly. "Why'd you even have me come here? To help your reputation, because family men get more business than loners! That's it, isn't it! You just wanted to improve your standings!"

"We will discuss this later. Anything—"

"I'm not something you can fit into your schedule for an appointment! I'm your damn son! If you're not gonna treat me like it, ship me back to Mom!" Ash raged, ignoring his father's yelling of not to interrupt.

"I'll be in my office," Mr. Ketchum said lowly.

"HELLO!" Ash shrilled, then waited for a response that never came. "Damn you! I hate it here!"

"Hush, dear," Carmen murmured. "Come on, let's get you something to eat."

"I'm not hungry!" he yelled.

"I know, but you're friends are here. Why don't you go get cleaned up, and I'll send them upstairs. Get up, now, and don't give me any of your lip."

"Yes, Carmen."

"And don't roll your eyes at me, young man!" she said, in what sounded like mock-anger.

"Right."

"I'm sorry you had to hear that," Carmen sighed as she reentered the room. "At least you don't have to see it, though." She smiled at their pale faces as she took their full bowls. "Ash'll see you up in his room. He just needs a few minutes to get presentable."

"Do they fight like that often?" Misty asked after a moment.

Carmen allowed herself a rolling of the eyes. "Not really, only after Mr. Ketchum gets a call from school about Ash. He doesn't understand the hard time his son has adjusting to here. And they both are terribly stubborn and have pride, although in different things. Usually they get along very well, but on very certain issues—grades, Pokémon, calls from school—they tend to have a brawl or two. It'll pass over, though. Don't you worry." The maid chuckled. "Would you like me to lead you to Ash's room?"

"You don't have to," Misty smiled. "I think we can find it with directions."

Carmen smiled. "Up the stairs, down the hall to the left, third door."

"Thanks," Brock smiled as they up.

"Oh, and no Pokémon, please. Mr. Ketchum's temper has been tried enough for one day."

"Right," he agreed while Misty smiled.

"Off with you now."

They walked out of the kitchen and into the main room. The carpeted stairs were in the center, then separated when it reached the wall. They went towards the left and counted the doors. Misty knocked.

The door was opened after a moment. Ash smiled at them weakly, in a pair of sweats, white shirt, and socks, and his hair was tousled a bit more. The only evidence of his recent fight was the slightly flushed cheeks.

"Hey, come in," he smiled warmly, eyes welcoming. "Sorry for the mess."

Misty smiled as she looked in, seeing a large pile of clothes that had tried to be shoved, unsuccessfully, under the bed and in the closet. The desk was hidden under books and papers, presumably his homework, and the bookshelves had piles of books stacked unceremoniously.

"Don't clean it, Brock," Ash sighed, seeing the familiar twitch in his friend's eye. He scratched his head nervously. "Look, I'm sorry for what happened today."

"No, we're sorry." Misty responded forcefully.

He plopped onto his bed, crossing his legs in front of him. "It doesn't matter. So I get a few extra marks and a punishment. Got me out of class." His smile widened, and he ran a hand through his hair. "So how's everything at home?"

"Pretty boring, actually," Brock smiled. "Don't have your big mouth to liven it up. Oh, and I love the letters. 'Hey, doing fine. Hope you're well. Bye. Ash'. Very informative."

"I write them during class," Ash responded feebly, smiling sheepishly.

"Better than mine," Misty laughed, leaning against the wall. "'Working on paying for bike. Am fine. Hope you are too. Ash.' How does he find the time?"

"Between calculus, accounting, and chemistry, I don't know." Ash leaned placed his chin on the palm of his hand. "I have to finish the last twenty questions on page 361, the last five pages in the Accounting assignment, and type a five page resultant paper. Another late nighter."

"Ehh," Misty said, making a face. "I forgive you for the notes."

"That all you have to do?" Brock asked.

Ash chuckled weakly. "No. I still have to prepare a presentation and write the notes for a debate for Tuesday, review marketing and retailing, write my foreign language essay on my life—" he snorted bitterly—"read the last one-hundred fifty pages of some book—that's by Thursday—psychology paper, history notes, practice my challenge, and repeat." He closed his eyes momentarily. "I don't think I've forgotten anything."

"You're talking Chemistry and Calculus? Aren't you a little young?" Brock wondered after he had thought about the whole list that Ash had given them. Misty was staring at Ash in a sort of dumb shock, surprised that the workload Ash put up with, and the fact that he was putting up with it. She seemingly couldn't see him as someone who would take those kind of classes, at least at twelve.

"I get a bit of help," Ash admitted. "But my grades are okay. I think so anyway." He rolled his eyes. "How's Mom?"

"She eagerly awaits your letters, which are a lot longer than ours," Misty smiled. "She has them all in a box and reads them constantly. Gary's off traveling again, and he's going back into the Indigo League to see if he does better. And then the Johto League."

"He will." Ash's tone had the slightest tones of envy.

"Maybe you can come with us," Misty suggested.

Ash looked at her sadly. "Can't. I already asked. See, Mom told me Professor Oak was going and was wondering if I'd like to go along with them."

"Well, we can watch it on TV," Brock suggested.

"Blocked."

"Blocked? You're kidding," he replied. Ash shook his head. "Well, we'll send you a tape, then, and we'll watch it with you."

Ash looked even sadder. "You know something?" he muttered.

"What?"

He jumped from the bed, walked over to his desk, and looked up at them with savage eyes. "I hate it here!" With those words, he cleared the desk with a swipe of his arm, sending all of the books to the floor in a jumbled heaped.

"I HATE IT!"

"After that, he took off," Shan finished.

Misty nodded. "He wrote to his mother telling her not to worry, that he was going to be all right and stuff, before he left. Mrs. Ketchum was over there in a flash, maxed out her credit cards, but Mr. Ketchum paid for it. He didn't even notice Ash was gone. Cops looked everywhere, contacted us all, thought maybe we knew. We didn't know anything."

"He had the courtesy to tell someone," Shan mused.

"Pikachu," the mouse agreed.

"We haven't seen him since, but he writes to Mrs. Ketchum."

"So they should know where he is," Shan concluded.

Misty chuckled. "Actually, Ash was a lot smarter than they figured. He had those letters forwards to so many cities it was nearly impossible to figure out where they came from. He really didn't want to be taken back to his dad's."

"I don't have to ask how Mrs. Ketchum took it, but what about his dad?"

"I told you, he didn't even notice. Sure, he was worried, but he still kept on working."

"Maybe it was his way of coping," Shan supplied. He was quiet for a moment. "Why do you suppose he ran away?"

She shrugged. "Sometimes I think it was so he could be a Master, but no one's heard of him in any competitions. Now I think it was just to get away from his dad. But five years, almost six, jeez, Ash." Misty shook her head sadly.

"Long time." Shan patted Rapidash when it jumped, startled, as a Rattata ran across the path. "Easy, boy. You know, do you think maybe he was afraid to come back?"

"What do you mean?"

"Ashamed. Runaways have a hard life, always hiding. Sometimes they stoop to low levels. Just travel down a few dark alleys," he explained darkly.

"Not Ash."

"You don't know, Misty. He probably had a very hard life after he left his father. He couldn't use his name, he had no Pokémon, by what you said, probably little money and food." Shan sighed. "Things can change in a person. I'll bet you anything your Ash isn't the same you remember, at least totally."

Misty looked over at Shan. He had a point. After all these years, she had always seemed to remember Ash as the ten-year-old she had traveled with. Even when he was with his father during her visit, Ash had acted pretty much the same. Now she realized he would have grown and changed, maybe looking more like his father. He was, after all, going to be 18.

"He might even be dead."

Her bike wobbled. "He just wrote Mrs. Ketchum! He even writes to Mr. Ketchum now, don't ask me why. He's not dead."

Shan looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "My mistake, then. But I am just saying Ash couldn't go to the hospital, centers, and the public eye. He wouldn't have battled if everyone were looking for him. No, if he ran away, he had to have this planned right, or did it by sheer Luck and Chance."

"That's Ash."

He paused again, changing the direction of the conversation. "What are you going to say when you see him?"

"I'm going to say he's an idiot for running away for so long, and then give him the biggest hug," Misty smiled.

She saw that Shan smiled as well, although it looked like he did it out of pity. His hand stroked Pikachu's head.

"Pikapi . . ." it cooed, eyes closed in happiness.

Misty knocked while Shan recalled Rapidash. Mrs. Ketchum opened it almost instantly, like she had been standing there, just waiting for it to have someone behind it. "Hi, Misty," she smiled, eyes bright and ready, although she looked a tad disappointed that it was just Misty.

Deep down, Misty knew Ash had done the right thing to write to his mom. It had made the years easier on her, making it seem like he was just traveling again. Mrs. Ketchum didn't look any older, although she really was just several years shy of forty.

"Guess what?" she said gleefully, hands clasped together. "Ash sent me a bouquet of roses today, and a letter, saying he'll be here at five tomorrow! Scout's honor." She was almost jumping up in down with the excitement. "The last address was from Cerulean too!"

"Really?" Misty asked gleefully. Mrs. Ketchum nodded, then looked at Shan curiously. "Oh, sorry Mrs. Ketchum. This is Shan. I met him on the way down. He's the Indigo League winner."

He smiled warmly at her, a lot warmer than he had smiled at Misty. "Hello," he greeted, bowing his head.

"Pikachu!"

Mrs. Ketchum's eyes watered at the sight of Pikachu, but she smiled bravely. "Come in, come in. Make yourself comfortable."

"Mime, mime!" Mr. Mime said, offering them a plateful of cookies. Shan took one respectfully, and then settled on a chair at the corner.

"So how are you doing, Mrs. Ketchum?" Misty asked as they sat down on a couch.

She smiled broadly. "Counting down the minutes before my little man returns." Her hands were twirling on her lap nervously.

"I'm sure he'll be happy to be back," Shan spoke. "If anything, for the cooking."

Mrs. Ketchum looked at Shan. "Thank you." Her eyes went over the face of the blond trainer. "You do look familiar . . ."

"He was the one that beat Gary last year," Misty smiled. "Remember the oaths Gary swore, and the pictures he ripped to shreds." Shan raised an interested eyebrow.

Mrs. Ketchum nodded her head while Shan looked at her intently, as if asking her if she had seen him somewhere else, an interested glimmer on his face. "Yes, probably."

"Pikachu?" The tiny mouse had been sitting on the table, looking between the two, then leaped onto her owner's lap. "Pi chu, Pikapi?"

"Not now, Pikachu," Shan said offhandedly in a quiet tone.

Pikachu looked at her owner slightly upset, but conceded to his wishes, curling down onto his lap. "Chu, pikachu," she sighed.

"What did she want?" Mrs. Ketchum asked.

Shan looked at Mrs. Ketchum like he was debating whether he should answer the question. "She just wanted to know if she could leave, no offense to you. She likes to tour towns."

"So that's why she wasn't with you when you went to the gym?" Misty asked.

"Yes. Normally I pick her up just outside, as you saw."

"Aren't you afraid someone would capture her?" Mrs. Ketchum asked, eyes falling towards nostalgia.

Shan shook his head. "No."

"Pi!" She looked like she was laughing. Shan smiled at her slightly.

"You must have traveled a lot, Shan?" Mrs. Ketchum murmured.

He looked up at her, knowing were the conversation was headed. "I've met a lot of people Mrs. Ketchum, but I rarely learned who they were. We all have something we want only to ourselves."

Misty was relieved that he didn't tell about how Ash might have become some junkie or murderer. At least he was tactful.

"You shouldn't worry though. Your son will come back," Shan promised solemnly.

Of that, Mrs. Ketchum seemingly had no doubt. "I know he will."

"Good morning, Misty," Mrs. Ketchum chirped as she prepared breakfast.

Misty rubbed her eyes with the heel of her palm as she sat down. "Morning." She looked at the woman, who seemed to be bustling with even more energy, a nervous energy. "The big day, huh?"

"Oh, yes, yes," she replied, eyes watering. "Finally. Would you like some scrambled eggs?"

Misty nodded, then looked around. "Where's Shan?" He had claimed the couch, even though Mrs. Ketchum had a perfectly fine room available.

"He's wandering Pallet, I believe. He is a polite young gentleman, isn't he?"

"Yes. Did you know he plays the flute?"

Mrs. Ketchum stopped moving around the small kitchen. "Really?" she asked in a faraway voice. "I thought I heard something like that this morning, but I couldn't figure out where. It was very beautiful, but sad. I knew I heard it before . . ." She drifted off, eyes dreamy.

"They had music at the League last year, but I never looked at the musicians," Misty added. "Wish I had."

"Hmm? Oh, yes, of course." Mrs. Ketchum went back to breakfast, a faraway look on her face. "You know, this morning he wandered into Ash's old room. We had a delightful chat. He is a terribly early riser, you know."

"I know," Misty nodded, toying with her eggs. "What did you talk about?"

Mrs. Ketchum tilted her head slightly. "Ash, mostly. When I found him in Ash's room, he started to apologize . . ."

Mrs. Ketchum was walking down the hall, unable to sleep anymore. First, from the excitement in the prospect that Ash was coming home, and then because of that melody she had heard, or thought she heard, or dreamed. It had sounded so familiar.

She walked down the hall when she came across a room whose door, which was usually shut, was open, and light beamed out into the hallway. It was hard to keep her hopes down as she peered in.

"Hello?" she whispered. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw someone turn. "Shan?"

"Good morning," he greeted quietly, replacing a plush Venonat that he had been holding back on the shelf.

"What are you doing in here?" Her voice must have sounded terribly accusing.

Shan looked at her with those piercing blue eyes. "I'm sorry. I wasn't aware that this room was off-limits," he apologized. "I was just curious as to what was behind the door. Misty had told me that this had been Ash's room."

She flushed. "I'm sorry. It's okay that you're in here." She walked in and picked up a small glass Pikachu. "This was Ash's room, yes. I had just been . . ." Mrs. Ketchum trailed off, not able to say her wish out-loud.

"You saw the light on and thought maybe your son had returned early," Shan finished knowingly. She nodded dutifully. "That maybe you could catch him so he could never escape again."

Again Mrs. Ketchum blushed. "You are very observant," she smiled, looking at him. Shan leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "How old are you?"

"18, as of late. That's why I'm leaving the Indigo League. I think I'm too old."

"It must have been hard to make that decision."

He shook his head. "No, it wasn't. I've made a lot harder ones in my life."

Mrs. Ketchum sat down on the bed, then patted the space next to her. Shan moved over carefully. "Tell me," she murmured as she studied his young face. "What do you think happened to my son? And be honest."

Shan ran his hand through his hair as he thought. "What I'd like to have happened, or what most likely happened, like in other runaway cases?"

Her eyes closed. "The second," she whispered.

He sighed. "Most runaways, if they aren't found or return, usually have a hard time. Some resort to stealing and other less preferred occupations. Others meet up with the wrong people, and get into such a tangled web that there's no chance of escape. Some become druggies, murderers." He shook his head sadly. "I've ran into a few in the bigger cities. Some have even tried to do me in, but I'm pretty wary." Mrs. Ketchum nodded her head, listening. "Some of them I buy lunch, and listen to them talk, if they want to. I don't pressure them, though."

"What do they talk about?"

"Lies. Why they're where they are, their lives, their problems. I never correct them, even though I know they're lying."

"What do you do, then? I mean, how can you stand it?" Mrs. Ketchum's eyes were shut, like she had dreamed of such things.

Shan looked at her face, tears coming from under her closed eyelids. "I can't help them if they don't want to be helped. But I'm not heartless." He made a small smile. "Some of them turn me down in the offer, but a few accept it."

"What do you offer?" Mrs. Ketchum whispered.

"A phone call."

Mrs. Ketchum opened her eyes to look at the trainer. "That's all?"

"Yes. They don't have to talk; I'd do it for them. They can ask any question they want, and I'll forward it to whoever is on the other end. It's like testing the waters, I suppose."

She eyes widened. "Are you doing that now?" Fear was in her voice.

Shan locked eyes with her. "If I were, would it matter?"

"N-no. But are you?"

"No," he answered honestly—she could hear the ring of truth. "Ash Ketchum never asked me to do this, and I never made the offer. I'm only here because Misty invited me."

"So you have seen my son?" Mrs. Ketchum asked, eyes hopeful.

"Yes, I have." Shan paused, then continued. "Recently."

Her eyes sparkled. "How is he?"

It seemed that Shan was questioning whether or not he should tell her. "He's okay, I suppose," he said at last.

"He hasn't done anything terrible, has he?"

"Aside from running away? Not especially." Shan looked at Mrs. Ketchum. "I know he misses you though." Again he paused. "Tell me, why do you think he ran away?"

Mrs. Ketchum bit her bottom lip. "Did he ever tell you?"

"I think as the years go by, runaways forget the real reason they ran away. I don't ask."

She nodded. "Sometimes I think he did run away to be a Pokémon Master. He really wanted to."

"Sometimes?"

Mrs. Ketchum winced. Somehow she knew Shan would catch the word choice. "I embarrassed him so much as a child. I didn't mean to, but I did," she sniffed. "Some nights I blame myself that he ran away. He ran away to get away from us, me and Li." She gripped her trembling shoulders. "I was a terrible mother."

Shan was quiet, watching the scene. He moved his lips soundlessly for a moment. "Do you really think so?" he asked at length.

"I must have been."

With his elbows on his knees, Shan brought his hands up to his face like he was praying and took a deep breath. "You think so? You really think so? Do you really think a boy who hated his mother would bother to write and say he was all right on a very regular basis? That on more than one of the worst occasions he faced he never wanted anything more than to come back home to his mother's loving and protective arms? Is that what you really believe?"

Mrs. Ketchum looked at him with wet eyes. "You really think so?"

Shan turned his head and looked at her with his penetrating blue eyes. "If I was him, yes, I would have." He gave her an honest smile. "He didn't run away because you were a lousy mother."

She took confidence in his words. "Thank you," she smiled weakly. Then her eyes distanced. "But what about Li?"

Again Shan looked away and thought about it again. "At some level, every boy loves his father," he said slowly. "The restrictions placed upon him, maybe. Lack of attention, possibly. One too many fights. Some kind of challenge." Shan shrugged. "I don't know your husband. How did he take it, by the way?" He looked at Mrs. Ketchum again.

"As well as Li can take anything, I suppose," Mrs. Ketchum sighed. "We separated years ago, when Ash was a toddler. Li didn't want . . . couldn't raise Ash, he was always so busy. When we got the wake-up call that Ash was growing up, I guess he didn't understand what he was getting into. Li was so used to having everything under complete control, but having Ash around doesn't guarantee that." Mrs. Ketchum gave Shan a brief smile. "They're both stubborn and hard-headed, both expecting the other to fix their ways to meet the other's."

"Doomed from the start," Shan murmured, eyes closed.

"No. I do blame Li," she said firmly. "Ash needed attention, what Li couldn't give. I firmly believe Ash would have accepted his new home there if Li had made time for him."

Shan nodded in silent agreement. "Is he going to be here?"

"Li said he would." She looked at Shan. "Li really isn't as bad as Misty probably led you to believe. He just didn't know who to handle a family, a son. You had head blooming business and can't even work out problems with your own family. Ash really did have a nice time there." She dared him to contradict the truth

Shan nodded. "How could you have survived over these past five years?"

Mrs. Ketchum shrugged. "I really don't know. Ash's letters really helped, and Misty and Brock always come around, and so does Gary. He used to be a rival of Ash's, but I know they respected each other very much. Did you know that one time they almost found him?"

"Really?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

She nodded. "The police say the Growlithe found his scent, and they trailed it to a storage closest, where they store the soaps, fabric softeners, bleach, and stuff, I think. And he was there—he must have been scared away, but they found a half-written letter to me. They think he must have jumped into the river to escape, because they couldn't find another scent."

"Wow," Shan muttered. He stroked his chin. "Tell me, what do you think would have happened to Ash had he returned?"

Mrs. Ketchum closed her eyes. "The police were talking about taking family therapy," she murmured. "And foster homes." Her voice was terribly quiet.

"Do you think he knew that?"

"I don't know." She sighed. "You know what's really depressing, though?"

"What?"

"Well, I always figured Ash would love to see his Pokémon when he came back. I've been planning his welcome-back party since Ash said he was coming back," she admitted. Shan smiled. "But some years again, when there were those computer hackers around, they were stolen from Professor Oak's lab, along with a lot other trainers'."

"Really?" Shan turned his head quickly.

She nodded. "The other trainers' Pokémon came back to Pallet, back to Professor Oak's lab, but not Ash's. I always thought maybe they went to go find him, but he never mentioned it in his letters."

Again he nodded. "What are you going to do when Ash comes through that door?" he asked after silence surrounded them.

"I dream about that moment, but I really don't know," Mrs. Ketchum admitted. "I still she him as my little boy. I can't see him as a full-grown man."

Shan smiled at her. "I like that response," he said quietly. "It's truly honest."

Mrs. Ketchum turned her brown eyes towards the trainer. "Pardon?"

He turned away from her gaze. "You acknowledge that Ash will be different when he returns. He could have a completely different persona from what you remember. Not many are ready for that. I hope you are, though. He might be afraid of that."

"He's still my son." Mrs. Ketchum was surprised at the conviction in her voice.

"Yes." Shan nodded, eyes closed.

"Is something wrong?" she asked after a moment, watching the trainer.

Shan looked a deep breath. "No. Just thinking," he murmured.

Mrs. Ketchum narrowed her eyes critically "You don't look too well. Are you ill?"

"In mind or in body?" he replied lightly, turning his head to smile half-heartedly at her. "I'm fine. Just extremely preoccupied. I think I have to get some air, if you don't mind."

"Yes, that might help," she agreed as he stood up. "You will be back later?"

"I believe so." His eyes look one last look over the room, smiling. "I like the room."

"I knew he knew something," Misty muttered. She snapped her fingers. "I bet I he knows where Ash is, and he's going to meet him!"

Mrs. Ketchum looked at her, eyes bright. "I bet he does, and I want him to tell Ash I want him back. I don't care what he did; I miss my little boy." Her bottom lip trembled.

Misty kept her eyes on Mrs. Ketchum. "Well, I'm going to find Shan and force him to bring Ash out of hiding," she muttered to herself. "Mrs. Ketchum, I'm going to go to Professor Oak's, okay?"

"All right," Mrs. Ketchum said off-handedly, mind somewhere else.

She stood up and quietly left. As she was about to leave by the front door, Misty paused to look at the pictures that graced the wall. There was the happy Ketchum family, all three of them. Next to it was what looked like a four-year-old Ash at a Pokémon Petting Zoo covered in the Pokémon and laughing. The pictures progressed year by year, either Ash or Ash and Mrs. Ketchum in them. One picture Misty smiled at, having her and Ash dancing in their kimonos. There were three pictures that seemed to have been taken while Ash was at his father's. The first looked like a typical portrait. The second seemed Ash waving while he balanced on a balcony (Misty figured his mom might have had a heart attack when she saw that one) at a very crappy angle. The third she had to squint to find Ash—it seemed like it was a school function or something. After much straining of the eyes, she spotted Ash in the middle a few rows back.

"I wonder what this is a picture of?" she muttered, fingering the frame.

"Pi?"

Misty looked down at the mouse, which was looking up at her interested. "Hey, there? Do you know where Shan is?"

She smiled happily. "Pika."

"I want to talk to him." Misty forced a pleasant smile. "Can you take me to him?"

The Pokémon nodded and scurried out the door towards the forest, Misty following quickly. As they went deeper, Misty started to have doubts that Pikachu was even taking her to Shan. This was in the middle of nowhere.

Finally she opened her mouth. "Pikachu, are you sure Shan's out here?"

The Pokémon stopped running to look at her. "Pi!" She pointed deeper into the forest. "Chu pika pikachu!"

Misty shook her head. "Look, I know Shan knows something about Ash."

"Pikapi?" Pikachu backed away slowly.

"And you know it too," Misty accused, seeing the obvious motion.

Pikachu looked wildly around, still backing away. Then, within a second, it twirled and ran back deeper in the forest.

"Come back here!" Misty ordered futile, picking up her speed.

It was easy to see the bright yellow rodent as it ran, but as she ran, Misty heard other noises, like yelling. The yells caused her curiosity to pique than her interest in Pikachu. She slowed her running and started to follow the sounds.

"DUCK! WEAVE!" a voice ordered.

"Hit mon!"

"Almost. Just a bit faster."

"Mon, mon!" It sounded like it was laughing.

The voice laughed as well. "I know, I know! Just some more. We've got to practice, and Hitmonlee's leg muscle is strained, so you have to deal with me."

"Chan hitmon!"

"What, can't beat me?"

Misty suddenly found herself in a makeshift clearing, one that had been burned away. Somehow she wasn't surprised when she saw Shan stripped to the waist and boxing with a Hitmonchan. Actually, it was more like he was trying to stay away from the fists, which were moving faster than she could see.

Suddenly Pikachu came raging in. "PIKAPI!"

Bad timing.

"Wha—" With his attention diverted, Hitmonchan's fist had a perfect aim for Shan's cheek. "AH!"

"PIKAPI!"

"HITMONCHAN!"

Shan pushed himself off the ground, hand against his cheek. "I'm all right," he muttered. "Nice punch." He smiled up at the nervous and worried Hitmonchan. "Now what, Pikachu?"

"Pika pikachu chu—" She was interrupted by Misty clapping.

"Nice, very nice," she smiled, coming closer.

Shan stood up. "Hitmonchan, return," he murmured. The Pokémon disappeared.

"Fighting with a Hitmonchan? Not exactly the brightest thing to do. They can throw punches faster than the speed of light, don'tcha know?"

"I know," Shan said quietly as he picked up his shirt that had been hanging on a tree branch. "What do you want?"

Misty watched as he put the shirt on. "You know where Ash is, don't you?"

"I assume you mean Ash Ketchum?" Shan replied casually, running a hand over his cheek. "I hope this doesn't bruise."

"You know I mean Ash Ketchum!" she snapped, not caring about his profile. "Where is he?"

He shrugged. "How should I know?"

"You know, don't deny it," Misty said, gripping him by the color. It would have been better if he had been shorter and she had been stronger. Shan merely looked down at her, half amused, half-annoyed.

"Let go of me, please." He waited until she removed her hands before he continued to speak. "Misty, I admit I have seen Ash recently, but I will not tell you where he is." He held up a hand when she prepared to interrupt.

"You know why?"

"Why?"

"Because, Misty, you should know."

He turned on his heel and started to walk away, Pikachu following.

"And what's that mean?"

"Are you his friend, or aren't you?" He stopped to grab his bag.

"Of course I am!"

"Then either figure out where he'd be, or wait until five. Your choice."

"Why did you lie to me?" Misty demanded, catching up to him.

"I never said I never met him," Shan said gravely.

"You implied!"

He looked straight ahead. "You assumed."

Misty's cheeks turned red. "Are you Ash's friend?"

"Depends on the definition of friend, I suppose," Shan said neutrally. "But, if you mean by friend, how can I allow him to do this? Why don't I just drag him out of hiding?"

"Yes!"

He shrugged, looking around as they left the trees. It seemed Shan knew how to get out of the forest faster than she knew how to get in. He ran a hand through his bangs. "What makes you think he's hiding?"

"What are you talking about?"

Shan shrugged. "Is Ash hiding? And if he is, what is he hiding from, if he's hiding at all?"

"I don't understand you or your riddles," Misty complained quietly.

He looked at Misty for a moment, then turned to look where they had exited the forest. "Professor Oak's, correct?"

"Didn't you say something about getting your Pokédex updated?" Misty asked sarcastically, suddenly feeling like he had planned this.

"That I did." He started to make his way towards the building. "Do you think he's home?"

Misty was quiet for a moment. "He should be, right now anyway. He's going to go to the Ketchum house to wait for Ash though." She seemed to run their past conversation through her head. "Are you saying I'm not Ash's friend?"

"I'm saying that if you are Ash's friend, you would know where he is. He could be right under your nose, so to speak." He raised his eyes brows at her. "So keep a look-out, hmm?"

Misty narrowed her eyes at him. "You are seriously annoying."

Shan started to climb the steps to the house. "I hope he doesn't mind." With that, he knocked on the door.

The door was opened. "Hello. Can I—YOU!" Gary Oak locked his eyes on Shan's neutral face. "What the hell are you doing here!"

"Nice to see you too, Mr. Oak. I was hoping your grandfather could up-date my Pokédex. How is your training going?"

"I'm going to win this year at the League," Gary swore as he stepped aside.

Shan smiled. "Good luck then. My Pokédex?"

"Yes, follow me," Gary said smartly, smirking. "I've been training all year, just so you know."

"I wouldn't except anything else."

"Gary, I think—" Misty started.

"So this year, I'm coming home with the trophy."

"I don't doubt it."

Gary narrowed his eyes at Shan, thinking that the champion was mocking him. "You'd better not. Grandpa?"

"Yes, Gary?" Oak smiled, looking up from his work. "Ah, I see we have company. Hello Misty, and . . . "

Gary finished the greeting. "This is Shan."

Oak smiled. "So you're Shan. My grandson had a lot to say about you from last year's competition."

Shan smiled weakly. "So I have heard." He dug into his back pocket. "I was wondering if you could up-date this for me." He held out his Pokédex. "I would appreciate it very much."

"I'd be delighted," Oak smiled, taking the computer. "Are you training at the moment?"

"Off and on. At the moment I'm merely traveling."

"Well, I suggest you get training a lot more," Gary smiled. "I've been working doubly hard just to beat you."

"I'm glad to give you the motivation."

Oak smiled as he tapped the keys on the keyboard. "Gary has worked very hard in hopes that he can challenge you in this years league games."

"He might find that difficult," Misty finally burst out. "Since Shan isn't competing this year."

"You're WHAT!" Gary demanded. "How can you just drop out?"

Shan looked at him blankly. "It is my choice."

Gary clenched his fists. "Well, then I challenge you to a battle."

"Is beating me that important to you?"

Oak smiled. "Gary wants only to fight the best."

"When are you going to Mrs. Ketchum's, Professor Oak?" Misty asked, ignoring Gary as he tried to engage Shan into a staring contest.

"I was going to head over there just after I finished putting away these files and set up the security measures."

"Are you going to be there, Shan?" Gary asked.

"I suppose I am under contract, so to speak," Shan smiled, bending down to pet Pikachu, who had remained quiet for the whole ordeal.

"Pika!" she agreed, jumping up to his shoulder and resting onto his pack.

Oak looked interested. "My, that is a very fine Pikachu." The computer suddenly beeped, signifying the completion of the up dating. "Here you go, Shan."

"Thank you, Professor."

"You know I've got an idea," Gary smiled. "We'll have our battle when Ash comes back, sort of a welcome home."

"That sounds nice," Misty smiled. "Ash would like that."

"What do you say, Shan?" Oak smiled.

"Sounds like a battle." He smiled. "You decide the rules."

"Three on three, no time limit," Gary smiled. "Better get ready. Less than five hours."

"Pika!" Pikachu promised, shocks escaping her cheeks.

Shan laughed heartily, which surprised Misty terribly. She hadn't heard him laugh yet. A chuckle here or there, a grim little laugh, but never a laugh like that. It was disturbingly . . . déjà vu. "Until the battle, Gary Oak."

Gary smirked. "Ready, Grandpa?"

Oak nodded. "Oh, yes. I hope Mrs. Ketchum has prepared a big lunch."

"Is Tracey coming?" Misty asked.

"He's already left."

"Pikapi! Chu pikachu pika!" Pikachu said to Shan, eyes closed happily. He nodded, eyes closing as well.

"I remember, Pikachu. I remember," he murmured.

"Remember what?" Misty asked.

Shan smiled at her. "The Alamo." His comment met blank stares, and he sighed. "I remember the morning. Let's get going, Pikachu." They started down the hall.

"Strange," Oak mused.

"He's a nut," Gary said.

Misty shook her head.

The bell tolled the fourth hour, and everyone looked nervously around. One more hour to go!

"Mime, Mr. Mime." Mr. Mime smiled, offering sandwiches.

Misty looked around. Tracey was sitting next to professor Oak and Brock, talking about recent findings in the different Pokémon aspects that he had noticed. she could tell by how fast her was talking that he was worried. Professor Oak seemed to be a lot more worried than he had been at him lab, and Brock hadn't once mentioned a girl's name. Mrs. Ketchum was nervously sitting, and Mr. Ketchum—Misty couldn't believe he even showed up—was tapping a pencil. The only idea of amusement to be found was Gary—in an effort to make time go by faster—trying to talk to Shan, who was seemingly mediating. Pikachu was resting on his lap. They were the only ones unaffected by time.

There were no decorations. Friends were enough. Mrs. Ketchum knew her son well enough.

No one was placing the blame. They were all past the blame game. Now they could only wait.

The minutes ticked by. Five after . . . four ten . . . quarter after . . . twenty after . . . four thirty. The voices spoke in quiet tones, eyes watching the clock.

"May I use your phone?" Shan suddenly asked, interrupting Gary in mid-sentence.

Mrs. Ketchum looked up. "Why, yes."

"Thank you." Everyone watched him pick up the phone, as they seemed to understand that Shan, in a way, did know where Ash was. Carefully, he dialed a number, but did not sit in front of the screen.

Shan said nothing, but nodded slightly every now and then. Then he placed the phone back down.

"Pi ka?"

Everyone watched Shan as he opened his pack and withdrew a small laptop. Within seconds, he was typing rapidly.

"What are you doing?" Gary asked, amazed at the flurry the fingers flew across the screen.

Shan didn't respond. Pikachu looked at her master in a pleased sort of light, nodding her head. "Chu pikachu ka pika pikachu chu, Pikapi." She nosed into his bag, and then came back with a small treat. Shan didn't notice.

After almost fifteen minutes—four forty-five—he stopped typing and closed the computer, setting into onto the table. Shan rubbed his eyes wearily, and for once Misty saw something flicker behind them—a kind of worry or fear. "Excuse me," he murmured, standing up.

"Where are you going?" Gary demanded.

"To shower. I feel tense and dirty," he said as he made his way up the stairs.

"Ash'll be here in like ten minutes," Misty said hotly.

"I know."

"Weird," Brock said.

"You've just met the guy. Wait until you get to know him," Misty promised. "If you even can."

Gary looked at the computer, opening the top. "I wonder what he was doing?"

"Pikachu!" Pikachu scolded, although she seemed to be very cheerful.

"Mime, mime!" Mr. Mime smiled, walking around dumbly. It knocked into Shan's pack, causing the contents to spew around.

"Pika pikachu!"

Gary's eyes were wide. "Look at all those Pokéballs."

"There must be over a hundred!" Brock exclaimed.

Pikachu was trying wildly to round them up, but Mr. Mime was no help. He fell to the ground hard on the rolling balls.

Mrs. Ketchum leaped up. "Mimey, are you all right?"

"M-mime." Its eyes were wavering.

"Pika!" Pikachu huffed, finally succeeding in getting all of the balls, more or less, into a pile.

"What's this?" Tracey asked, picking up what looked like a notebook.

"Put that back, Tracey. It's not yours," Oak reprimanded, although he too was curious.

"Oh, Grandpa, just a little look," Gary sighed, taking the book away from Tracey. "We all know he knows something." He flipped the book open and started to scan it. "It says—"

"Pika-CHUU!" The tiny Pokémon, seemingly upset at the lack of privacy Gary was showing her master, released a Thunderbolt. "Pika, pikachu!" she said, talking the smoldering book back from a twitching Gary in the air of "It serves you right."

Mr. Ketchum looked at the little mouse, which looked back defiantly. "I agree with her. You shouldn't go through other people's papers," he said quietly. Pikachu blinked in surprise.

"Pika?"

Gary pushed himself up. "All right, all right," he muttered.

"What's this?" Brock asked, retrieving something Mr. Mime had kicked under the chair. He opened it, wary of Pikachu. "It's a flute?"

"Shan plays," Misty explained. "He's really good too."

"Wow," Gary muttered.

Mr. Ketchum seemed slightly interested. "Can I see that for a moment?" Brock handed the instrument with a slightly confused expression, and Mr.. Ketchum looked down. "Don't you dare shock me, little rodent," he muttered.

"Pi!"

He put the flute together carefully, then traced his finger along the side. "Ash was in orchestra," he murmured.

"He was really good at it." Mrs. Ketchum's eyes shone brightly. "He had that beautiful solo."

"Ash was in band?" Gary repeated.

"Orchestra," Mr. Ketchum corrected.

"What did he play?" Tracey asked. Even Misty and Brock leaned forward. They must have missed that part of Ash's school schedule.

Mr. Ketchum didn't answer, lost in memory. Neither did Mrs. Ketchum. Both of their eyes were glazed over.

The clock on the wall suddenly chimed the hour.

There was a knock at the door. Everyone looked at it, surprised. Ash. . . on time? Misty mused. Mrs. Ketchum didn't even budge, rooted to the spot. It was Tracey who finally opened the door, as he was nearest.

"Yes?" he asked quietly, as he opened the door.

The person at the door was certainly not Ash. She had deep green hair and a delivery outfit on, the nametag reading "Jane", and was standing next to a dolly with a large box on it "Hello," she chirped. "I have a delivery to be made to this house. If you would please sign here." Tracey took the board dumbly and scrawled his name on it. "Thank you. And here you go."

"T-thank you," he stuttered and she pushed the dolly into the house and deposited the box in the middle of the group.

"I wonder what's in it?" Brock voiced the question on everyone's mind as soon as Jane left.

"I suppose we have to open it to find out," Oak smiled slightly.

Slowly they closed in on the box. Mrs. Ketchum lifted off the lid and looked in. Everyone gasped slightly at the shimmering gold.

"Trophies, badges, and plaques . . ." Brock murmured.

Misty picked up a small box and opened it. Twelve tiny badges looked up at her, all in the shape of stars. "'Badges of Ash S. Ketchum, Constellation League'."

"The what league?" Gary demanded.

"That's on the outer edge of the Dark Mountains," Professor Oak said quietly. "Very dangerous League, I've heard. No one goes there anymore, because of the death rate."

Misty snapped the case shut as quietly as possible. Tracey pulled out his own specimen. "'A. S. Ketchum'," he whispered. "'Avian League Winner'."

"They're along allowed to use flying type, preferably birds," Oak explained.

"Shan was right. Ash wasn't hiding," Misty murmured. "He was just where we weren't looking."

Gary had a very determined look on his face as he dug deeper. "The Ratwa Competition, the Ossature Sectional, the Pooka Region . . .Grandpa, why didn't you tell me about these places?"

"I thought those Leagues were gone or dissembled. No one's gone to the Pooka Region since before I was even born, and the others, those were legends . . . although maybe not."

"Hey, look, that looks like an Indigo League Trophy!" Brock said suddenly, digging in the box.

"It is! But that's impossible!" Gary argued. "We would have seen him."

"Pika pikachu pi ka chupi pikachu," Pikachu said simply.

"What?" Gary demanded.

"I think she said the best way to hide is to be where everyone can see you," Brock said, unsure. Pikachu nodded her agreement.

Oak politely took the trophy away from Brock and prepared to read the label. "According to this, Ash S. Ketchum won—"

"Transfer complete!" the computer chimed happily, could it be happy. "Account of Ash S. Ketchum up-dated. Have a nice day!" Everyone looked at the computer intently, demanding it explain its statement.

Brock carefully lifted the screen up and read the message quickly. "According to this, some kind of transaction was made to or from . . . Ash's account." He read the message. "Present balance: 67 mill—" He stopped and reread the screen. "67 million, 750 thousand, five-hundred 46, and 43 dollars, plus 15 cents."

"How in heaven's name could he get—" Mr. Ketchum started, but then stopped, looking at the screen, Ash's name blinking.

Everyone could hear the sound of the quiet footsteps coming down the steps, it was so quiet. Pikachu looked up and smiled, running over to her master. "Shan, could you please explain this," Misty demanded, turning to face him.

Shan stood there, arms crossed over his chest and leaning against the wall. His eyes, hidden under the damp blond bangs, seemed different. "Explain what?" he asked quietly.

"What is this about?" Brock demanded. The eyes flickered over to the screen. "And these, the trophies?"

"Won in competition. I saw them being won." His voice was quiet.

"Then where is Ash?" Tracey asked.

Shan shrugged. "If you don't know . . ." He sounded sad.

"I know where," Mrs. Ketchum said quietly.

"As do I," Mr. Ketchum agreed, his eyes lingering a moment longer on the screen. He still held the flute.

Shan nodded towards the instrument. "That's mine," he said quietly.

Professor Oak had not interest in interrogating Shan. "Where is Ash?" he asked the parents. Everyone's eyes, even Shan's, lingered on them.

Time seemed to have stopped, tears trickling down Mrs. Ketchum's cheeks. And suddenly she ran and enveloped Shan in the tightest hug.

"You're back," she sobbed. "I've missed you so much!"

Shan closed his arms around her. "Me too," he whispered, brown eyes shining.

Misty understood what Sha—Ash had meant now as she sat at the dinner table. She had remembered him as the twelve-year-old too much. She couldn't grasp the idea that Ash would have to change in order to stay hidden. Now she looked at Ash at the front of the table, while they prodded him for what had all happened to him.

Blond hair, she didn't expected that. He bleached it—almost caught in the storage closet, with bleach—and then the blue contacts. All a charade to remain out of sight. Ash wasn't the loud boy she had known, not anymore. He was quiet and reserved, some part of him hidden from everyone. Now he was polite, almost to the point of being shy. Instead of clumsy, his motions were thought out and graceful.

Ash had spoken little, almost as must as Shan had. Ash, Shan . . .he had only rearranged the letters and added another to create his new name. It was easy, he said, to hack into computers and forge documents. It was easy to bypass security and create himself a new Pokédex for this persona. It was even easy to hack into Professor Oak's lab and retrieve his Pokémon when everyone was worried about the hackers. They always asked what you wanted put on your trophy, the name you wanted on it. And no one actually reads trophy labels . . .

The money? He did get awards for winning, and interest added up. But, five years, it was a long time. So many competitions, so many winnings, so many expeditions. The other Leagues held winning highly, Ash said . . .

The matter with Pikachu? Pikachu never ran away. She had returned during the night and put herself into a Pokéball—Pikachu, in a Pokéball, for him—and stowed away in his suitcase. He hadn't known until he unpacked, but he had to pretend, to lie. Pikachu hid around the grounds and in his room on the cold nights. And Pikachu called him "Pikapi", like she had done years before. Misty never noticed.

The picture on the wall, the orchestra. So obvious now that she thought about it, that he might—and did—play the flute. He was standing where flutes sit in an orchestra. And the picture of him on the mantel, at such a low angle. Who could have taken it but Pikachu?

She had been so blind, she thought as she looked at Ash. He looked so out of place, like he didn't belong here.

Why had he run away? Ash couldn't, or he wouldn't, answer it. No one was sure which it was.

Misty shook her head sadly, blue eyes on Ash, who was toying with his food as they continued there delicate questions. That's not Ash, she thought. Ash Ketchum is dead.

It was a very numbing and colossal statement. She thought it again.

Ash Ketchum is dead.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter one: The Proper Way to Tell a Story

"Coffee, regular."

"Vanilla cappuccino, please."

"Coffee, decafe."

"Tea, thank you."

The waitress smiled as she wrote down their orders. "Your orders will be here in just a few moments," the violet-haired vixen promised, then strolled away.

Tracey leaned over to Brock. "Are you sure you saw him come in here?"

"Hmm," Brock murmured, eyes looking over it the distance.

Misty unceremoniously rolled her eyes and whapped him smartly on the head. "Stop staring at Judy's rear," she ordered. "God, haven't you grown out of the testosterone phase _yet_?"

Brock rubbed the back of his head and looked sullenly at the younger adults. "What was the question?"

"I said—" Misty started, loud enough so that the whole café could hear what was going to come out of her mouth.

"Are you sure you saw Ash walk in here?" Tracey interrupted.

"Yeah, I saw him. You can't miss him," Brock said enviously.

"No, it's easy to miss Ash. You just can't ignore the troupe girls surrounding him," Gary corrected testily.

Misty nodded in silent agreement. With his bronze tan complexion, lean muscles, and pale bleach-blond hair (and especially when he wore the blue contacts), Ash had the ideal Sun God form. His "fan club" would easily be doubled if it wasn't for the fact that he rarely smiled now, for many girls found if very hard to be the subject of his grim stares.

Judy returned with their drinks as they sat in silence, smiling warmly. "Have you come to see Miriam Montgomery?" she asked as she set the coffee cups down in front of Tracey and Gary.

"Who?" Gary asked.

"Miriam Montgomery, an entertainer from Cornflower Strait. She's touring with this group, can't remember their name, and we're incredibly lucky sh—they decided to stop here. The Indigo League _actually_ vouches for them, and you know how rare that is." Judy almost spilled Brock's tea as she set it down because she was so excited. Her eyes noticed their blank and less than enthused looks. "They've actually broken a few trends over there with the use of her Pokémon, too! He's so cute! They're all really great, you'll see, really talented. They do all these parodies and copies of songs . . ." Still rambling on, Judy turned around and started to walk to the counter.

"Ash probably came to watch her," Tracey suggested.

"Or he decided to bypass the girls by cutting through here," Misty countered, looking around for the blond locks but not seeing them.

Gary picked up his cup and took a gulp. "Why are we even here? Shadowing Ash is not how I planned spending my day, or week, or month." He rolled his eyes in self-pity.

"We never asked you to," Misty countered, harsher than she meant, but Gary was always complaining. Of course, Misty had wondered the same thing on more than one occasion. Why bother? Finally she settled that it was because of the change she saw in him, the change from the twelve-year-old boy to . . . to Shan. Right now, to her, Ash wasn't Ash. He _was_ just Shan, a stranger.

Looking around the table, Misty saw that the others had similar thoughts running through their heads, even though they were just as likely to admit it aloud as she was. Until they found out what had happened to him, they would continue to try and piece it together from what they saw. After several tries, they found they couldn't subtlety talk it out of him. His lips were as tight as a Cloyster's. And he wasn't going to just open up to them if they dropped him in a tub of hot water either.

"Hallo, Pallet Town!" cooed a voice suddenly from a platform. Misty turned her head to see a wild white-haired, green-eyed, thin woman wearing black bell-bottoms and a pink mid-drift with long, puffy sleeves up on stage. "Well, I got to kill some time so the musicians can set up, the slow pokes—"

"Get over here and help, Miriam!" one of them laughed. The audience laughed at the expression the woman made.

"Ah, no. I'll break a nail or somethin', David." She smiled at the audience. "Anyway, we're glad to be here. Case ya don't know, we're—"

"Chuka!"

Miriam turned her head quickly at the Pikachu that suddenly leaped from behind the curtain, eyes wide, then smiled, as did her hair.

"There's a Ninetales on her head!" Gary exclaimed as the deep-red eyes opened and yawned down at Pikachu, complaining, "Nine!"

"A _miniature_ Ninetales!" Brock corrected, looking at it with wide eyes. "Do you know how rare those are?"

_You're going to tell us, aren't you, Tracey?_ Misty thought in the back of her mind, watching as Miriam removed the Ninetales, which was about the size of as it's unevolved form Vulpix. It might have even been smaller. Tracey or Brock would know.

"Out one in approximately ten million Ninetales is miniature," Tracey informed them, like they were actually interested in Brock's rhetorical question.

Ninetales leaped down from her arms to dance playfully around Pikachu. Miriam made a cute face at the pair, kneeling down to pet the electric mouse, while the other musicians chuckled to themselves. "Why if it isn't lil' Rodent!" she exclaimed with a laugh. "How ya doin'?"

Pikachu looked at her indignant for the title, but smiled evilly. "Pikachu pika, Chuka!"

It was like Miriam had totally forgotten about the audience. "And where is yar annoyin' shrimp sidekick, hmm? We could use an extra hand, ya know." Her eyes whirled over the room, but were disappointed. "Not here? Well, I'll see him later. Ya just stick around."

"Pikachu!" Pikachu disappeared from the stage, then leaped onto the table right in front of Tracey.

"You know," Gary said lazily, "I should be surprised, but I'm not."

"You know her, Pikachu?" Misty asked.

"Can you get us to know her?" Brock corrected instantly, looking at the hourglass figure Miriam had.

Pikachu rolled her eyes. "Chu pika. Chuka pikachu," she said, bringing her finger up to her lips.

Miriam looked vaguely at the audience as the musicians in the side finished organizing. A few moved to the front, and a smile played upon Miriam's face. "Well, I suppose we should get started, hmm?"

*****

The last note died on the saxophone, and the audience instantly started clapping. Smiling as her lips left the mouthpiece, Miriam bowed with the dancers on the stage. The Ninetales did a back flip and managed to, somehow or another, end in a spectacular bow.

"That Ninetales is _amazing!_" Tracey breathed, unsure as to whether or not they should leave. "It must be really well-trained. Did you see those flips?" He looked at the sketches he had made on his napkin. "Amazing."

"My Ninetales could do that," Gary sulked.

"I wonder if she'd be interested in breeding," Brock sighed, eyes dreamy.

Misty narrowed her eyes at her friend, unsure as on how to take the last statement. Feeling generous, she decided to let it slide. "I bet—"

"Hey! Rodent!" Miriam called, stepping down from the stage, still holding her saxophone. The tiny Ninetales sat on her shoulders like a shawl.

"Pi, Chuka!" Pikachu responded, bolts good-naturedly escaping her cheeks.

The tall woman clicked her tongue and shifted her eyebrows. "Whatever." Miriam looked at the small table. "How are ya all doin'?"

Wm-ahhh, was all Brock managed to get out.

"Your Ninetales is remarkable, Ms. Montgomery," Tracey said enthusiastically.

She rolled her eyes. "Nothin' about my performance?" She sniffed. "All comments for one fox, and none for the other . . . ones," she added hastily.

"And it's always ya they talk 'bout!" She looked accusingly at the Pokémon, poking his nose. "No fair. We do use other Pokémon, too."

"Niine!" the fox Pokémon laughed, batting away the finger and hopped on the table, as if in an effort to say that he was truly splendid and beautiful—_but don't touch_! He snapped at Tracey, who had made an effort to pet him. Miriam didn't reprimand the fox, seemingly ignoring his behavior.

"You know Pikachu, Ms. Montgomery?" Misty asked as the woman sat down on a backward chair, legs straddling on either side.

"Call me Miriam," she pleaded lightly, then nodded. "Oh yeah. We go back a long time, don't we, Rodent?" Miriam petted Pikachu's ears lovingly.

The four locked eyes knowingly. "You'd know As—Shan then, right?" Tracey asked.

Miriam looked critically at them. "I haven't heard that name for some time, ya know?" She shook her head sadly. "Too honest to be a thief. And I _tried_ to teach him the trade. Tsk, tsk, tsk. Terrible. My only great failure!"

"Chuka," Pikachu said lowly.

She shrugged. "I suppose maybe it was for the best." Miriam's eyes danced over the friends. "Ya know him, I suppose?" They nodded dutifully.

"Well, I suppose I'm obligated to say howdy-do to the idiot since I'm in town, _considerin'_ he did give us a spot of help. Ya know where he is?"

Gary made a feeble laugh. "We figured he was in here. Been following him all day, or been following the girls that have been following him anyway." He shrugged.

Miriam looked slightly interested at that statement. "Ah, no worries. Rodent here can lead us, hmm?" Pikachu shook her head in a no gesture. "What? Why not?"

She sighed wearily. "Pikachu chu pika pi pikachu pikach—"

"Hey, I don't understand Rodent, remember?" Miriam interrupted with a smile. "So unless Timmy actually fell down that well, we've got a problem. So, if ya can't lead us, then . . ." She snapped her fingers, thinking of a plan. "Ya just go to Blondie and we'll conveniently follow. Ya'll, of course, try to lose us, but not that hard or mucky or whatever. I'm wearin' my good boots. Pyro hadn't chewed these ones up." She looked at the fox, which seemed to be smirking. "Yet."

Pikachu thought it over for a moment, then smiled. "Pika, Chuka!"

"Then Hi-Ho, lil' mouse. Left, right, left right!" Miriam laughed, walking towards the door and grabbing a coat that was on the hook. "Yo, John! Be back later, k!"

Someone from the stage made a noise, which the group could only assume to be an affirmation. Miriam smiled, then looked at the Pokémon. "I _said_ hi-ho! Come on, get hi-hoing! And _yes, _that does include _you_," she drawled to the fox.

Pikachu rolled her eyes, but started off in a very military-type walk. "Pi, chu, pi, chu!"

The fox followed lazily. "Nine, tale, nine, tale."

The trio started to march uniformly as they wanted out the door as the four friends stood up, each of them tossing down a few dollars to pay for the tab.

"Cra . . Z. . . . Cra . . .Z," Gary muttered

Brock shot him a hard look. "No. Beau . . . ti . . . ful!" He clicked his heels together then jogged up to catch up with Miriam.

"Some things will _never_ change," Misty said, trying not to smile.

*****

"Shh," Miriam smiled at Misty, Tracey, and Gary caught up. Cautiously she pointed up into a near-bare tree they were next to. "Right . . . there."

Tracey saw Ash first, as he was a Watcher. (Brock could have seen him as well, had he not been staring at Miriam.) "He looks asleep," he said, although unsure. Misty tried to follow his gaze high up into the tree, almost at the top, and saw what she figured was probably Ash's leg in dark blue jeans.

"Probably exhausted from avoiding those girls," Gary smiled.

"Pikapi!" Pikachu called, scurrying up the tree.

"Yo, Shorty!" Miriam yelled, trying to jump up to a branch and climb up. "I found ya so ya got to talk to me!"

Some of the few leaves moved from above, a few even falling, and Misty saw a flash of yellow. "Hey, Miriam," Ash's tired voice called down.

"How ya doing?"

Miriam let go of the branch she had grasped and looked up into the tree. "Same old, same old. How 'bout ya?"

"Been better, been worse, I suppose. I see Pyro is still as tiny as his brain."

The singer chuckled, looking at the indignant fox. "Or at least yars. Ya goin' come down? Cuz ya'd better, or Pyro'll torch the tree. And ya know I'd have him do it! And he'd be willin' too! I won't be bothered too much, either. It's cold." She shivered slightly, blowing on her hands to warm them up. "Ya know how much I hate Winter."

There was a chuckle from above. "Down in a minute."

_Or less_, Misty mused as he dropped down a second later, wearing a white sleeveless T instead of his typical long-sleeved black shirt. He was probably going to catch pneumonia in the chilly November air. She was actually surprised that Ash _did_ look tired, his bangs hanging limply over his dull brown eyes.

"Ya look great," Miriam smiled as she gave him a small hug, not sounding a bit like she was lying.

He made a crooked smile raising an eyebrow, which really did surprise Misty, as he returned the hug. It seemed almost natural.

"Nice to see ya again, Miriam," he said, then tossed his head at the small instrument as she backed away. "Didn't figure you'd still play, Ms. Diva."

"Shut up, Blondie," she retorted, although there was a pleased smile on her face from the title. She leaned against the tree, fingers dancing over the keys, making little _poppity-pop_ sounds. "Ya know, I never figured ya'd actually come back. Thought it was all talk." Her green eyes softened. "I'm sorry for what happened with Shamin though."

Ash turned away slightly. "Me too, but c'est la vie."

"Bull, for whatever that means anyway. When'd it happen? Ya took off so fast after the Indigo, and we were swarmed at stage so much I never got get away so we could talk. Albeit, it probably was my fault." Ash shrugged a shoulder. "So when'd it happen?"

He seemed to be interested in looking up at the sky and was blinking his eyes rapidly, like a dust waif had gotten stuck in them.

"Constellation League, just before my last round."

Miriam looked at Pikachu, who had bowed her head, not meeting any one person's gaze. "She was like my lil' sis that I never had. And it wasn't yar fault, ya know. If I know Shamin, ya couldn't have changed her mind no matter what."

Ash snapped his head down to look at her hard. "I never said it was," he said sharply in a tone that made the others almost take a step back. "And I never will, not again. We made the choice as a team. I went through that pit of despair once, and I don't plan on going back. Not now anyway." He made a tight fist. "I _tried_, Miriam. And had I known . . . So don't you dare place any of the blame on me. Don't you dare." His eyes flashed.

She tightened her face, showing in a small way that she _did_ blame Ash, but was polite (or smart) enough not to say it aloud. "I _still_ don't know how it happened," she said quietly.

Ash looked at her vehemently. "Is there a reason you came to see me, Miriam, because I'd rather get off this subject."

"Ya know, I miss the boy I hung around with," Miriam snapped. _Now she knows how we all feel_, Misty thought. Her eyes narrowed as she inspected Ash closer. "Ya been usin' something?"

Ash's face turned red with anger, and his voice was tight when he spoke. "No, I haven't, Miriam. Thank you for asking."

"Hey, no need to get snippy with me! I'm just concerned!"

"I didn't ask you for concern, did I?"

"Ooh, the _big boy_ don't need no mother hen fussin' over him, huh?" she sneered. "Get off the frinkin' high horse!"

"Why don't you!"

They locked eyes, each raging with fire.

"Nine," Ninetales snarled.

"Pika."

They both looked down at the two Pokémon, whose eyes were pleading silently. Well, actually Pikachu was pleading. The Ninetales looked ready to fight on Miriam's behalf.

Miriam waved a dismissive hand, all malice gone. "In any case, I'm sorry for what happened. I know ya two were good friends, good friends," she repeated. Again Ash looked away. "Ya know that a few days would've—"

"I know," Ash said tightly. He didn't let go of the fight as easily as Miriam did.

She shook her head. "Ya said you were droppin' Indigo in yar last letter. So now what are ya goin' to do?" she asked after a moment, fingering the saxophone keys again.

"Don't know."

"Don't know, or won't say?"

"Take your pick," he snapped.

"Don't get smart with me." She frowned. "I mean, ya really like battlin' and stuff, can't see why. And don't ya dare answer that one," she said, waving her finger at Ash. "I mean, it sounded like ya were droppin' Pokémon all together. Never did get around to competing in that World Division thingy." She looked at him shrewdly. "Are ya dropping?"

The others, even Pikachu, blinked and looked at Ash in shock. He didn't say anything in his defense, and he didn't avert his gaze from Miriam's intense stare. She tilted her head.

"It's not because of Shamin, is it?"

His voice was calm. "Why should she influence my decision, especially now?"

Miriam made a small, exasperated sigh. "Do ya still play?" she asked, changing the subject again.

"Do Gyarados swim in the sea?"

"And go _chompity chomp_ on poor, drowning sailors," Miriam finished sarcastically, tossing her hair aside, then wrapped an arm around Ash's shoulders. She looked suddenly disappointed at the lack of difference in their heights, at the greatest her only having two inches on him. Miriam was about as tall as Brock. "Damn, when did ya grow? Ya used to be so short I could use ya as a footstool. Hmm, did in fact." Ash said nothing, waiting for her to finish whatever she had started. "Anyway, we'll be in town for a few. Maybe we can jam. Ya can come up; the guys wouldn't mind, and if they do, Pyro'll take care of it. Ya know he will, and it'll be like old times."

"Maybe," he agreed quietly. "But not quite."

Miriam nodded her head in quiet agreement as she removed her arm. Misty seemed to think that Miriam planned to put Ash into a headlock and get him to do whatever she had wanted, but then realized that would have been a futile fight. "That means 'not likely', right?"

"It means if I decide to," Ash corrected. Then he held out his hand. "And my wallet, please?" His friend made a face as she slapped the leather into his hand. "Thank you."

"The signs of a great pickpocket, bein' able to sense that," Miriam stated boldly, coming from her pout and stepping away. "Do me a favor and actually consider my offer? Life has to go on, even when Shamin's gone." Her smile wavered a moment, but stayed on her face.

He nodded slightly, then tilted his head to look at her, as if noticing something different. "Is that your coat? It looks a little too frumpy for your tastes. You stole that, didn't you?" His voice was accusing, to say the least.

She smiled evilly, poking his nose. "Did I now?" Then Miriam turned before Ash could even reply and walked away with a "Cheerio," playing what Misty figured where scales on the saxophone. The Ninetales trotted behind her, after slapping Ash with his tails, doing a sort of jig to the beat.

"Pikapi?" Pikachu asked timidly, causing the four friends to look at the outsider.

"Great," Ash sighed, rubbing his nose.

"Who's that, Ketchum?" Gary drawled casually, crossing his arms.

Ash looked at the others distantly. "Haven't you met, or have you been following her all day long too?" Misty thought she saw his lips twitch into a quick smile. He leaned up against the tree, looking down at Pikachu. "I met Miriam on the alleyway of Corral Lane. Or under, I suppose." He scratched his head in thought, the sighed when he decided he wasn't very sure. "Or _somewhere_ around there."

"Is she married?" Brock wondered, vividly remembering that he hadn't seen any rings on her fingers.

"Brock," Misty warned, not interested into getting into a conversation like that.

Ash ignored the question as well. "Why are you following me?"

"We're not following you," Tracey denied rather poorly. "What'd give you that idea?"

He chuckled humorlessly, stretching his bare arms out. Misty saw what she first noticed after seeing him swim with his Water Pokémon: the mesh of pale crisscrossing scars. One, the longest, stretched from the top of his hand and to his elbow on his right arm. There were wider scars on that one, like large dots, four on top lined right on the long scar, and one on the underside of his arm. It was similar to when you dig your nails in your forearm, except that these scars were a lot bigger. On his left shoulder, almost at his collarbone, there was also a peculiarly shaped five-pointed scar, like someone had thrust a stake into him. Misty had also seen a variety of fainter scars on his back, ones so faint that she had to squint to see them. She had finally been bold enough to ask how he got them, but Ash had merely grunted something inaudible and told her to mind her own business.

She understood why he usually wore long-sleeved shirts, especially around his mom.

When she moved her eyes, Misty saw that Ash had seen her staring at the scars again. "What gives me that idea, Tracey, is the fact that I do have eyes," he said levelly, seemingly unconsciously running a hand over his long scar. "I can see the looks you four give me. And I do know the looks." He paused momentarily, then added, "Very well, in fact. So why are you following me?"

The four looked at each other, nodding slightly.

"It's like this, Ketchum," Gary started. "We all enjoy a good mystery, especially in Pallet, since there's nothing else to amuse us since the theater is closed. It's just that you're the best we can come up with."

Ash rolled his eyes slightly.

"There is no mystery about me," he said after a moment of quiet reflection.

"I can think of a few," Brock countered. "Like how do you know Miriam? And who is Shamin?"

"How'd you get those scars?" Tracey added. Ash instantly stopped running his hand over his arm.

"What about those Leagues?" Gary put in. "And are you actually dropping Pokémon?"

"And why the hell did you ever run away?" Misty fumed, almost shouting.

Everyone looked surprised at Misty. Ash even blinked.

Gary cleared his throat first. "Well, Ketchum? You can pick any of those to start with."

"And while you're at it, tell us about Miriam," Brock sighed.

"Or what happened to you during those five years?" Misty added, her anger raging—anger she wasn't even aware she had, anger from the fact that Ash had never said anything to them yet, and they were _supposed_ to be his friends.

"Pikapi," Pikachu murmured, climbing up the tree so she could rest on his shoulder. Ash's eyes were focused on them, or at an area past of them.

"Look, Ash, if you tell us—" Tracey started, setting a hand on the eighteen-year-old's shoulder.

"Don't touch me," Ash hissed through clenched teeth. "Please, just don't, Tracey."

"Okay, Ash, okay," he said, backing away. "So what are you going to do?"

Misty was prepared for Ash to be stubborn and not say anything, to turn and walk away. She was not prepared for him to slide down the trunk and sit heavily on the ground, eyes almost closed. It was then that they could all see how incredibly tired Ash was. They had chosen well in their timing.

Eyes closed, Ash chuckled grimly. It almost seemed like he would be crying. "What the hell happened to me?" he repeated. He looked up at them, raising his eyebrows and tilting his lips up to a corner of his face in an expression of less-than-amused humor. "People change. We deal with it."

_Damn!_ they all thought at the same time. Obviously Ash wasn't going to open up like they had figured.

"Well, most people don't do one-eighties on their personalities," Brock countered.

"Yes, they do. It's called growing up."

Misty stomped her foot childishly. "Why won't you tell us? Aren't we your friends?"

Ash's head snapped up sharply, and Pikachu cried, "PIKACHU!" The mouse started to nuzzle her master, who was trembling with a seething anger. "Chu, Pikapi, chu pikachu," she murmured. He looked at her momentarily, and she smiled up at him hopefully. It gave neither any comfort, and Pikachu could see that his past demon was returning again, one that he never actually got around to beating into submission, because he couldn't. Ash looked back towards the others and studied them intently.

"Is this a test?" Ash finally got out, jaw firm. Pikachu looked at her trainer fearfully.

Misty nodded her head. "Yeah, it is. Are we, or aren't we?"

"Well then, we'll have to find out, won't we?" Ash said coldly, standing up.

"Pikapi!" Pikachu cried, pulling on his leg.

"And how do you propose?" Misty challenged, looking up at him to meet his gaze.

Ash made a cruel smile, flexing a fist. "Do _you_ trust me with your life?"

Her eyes looked over him briefly. "Y-yea, I do. Why?"

"PIKAPI!" Pikachu lamented.

"Let's test this faith," Ash suggested, turning on his heel to go over to a side tree. Their eyes followed to see Ash's backpack hanging on a low branch. Just as he reached in, Pikachu leaped onto the branch.

"Pi, pika chu pikachu, Pikapi!" she gasped.

"Don't worry. Nothing's gonna happen," he replied levelly, withdrawing something from his backpack. Then he turned and walked back, holding something in a blue-violet silk cloth. "I . . . won this," he started in a bitter whisper, slowly removing the silk away. Their eyes were focused like sunbeams through a magnified lens, and then they gasped seeing the silver blade reflecting their stares back at them.

Ash tossed the cloth into the air, brought the knife down, causing it to slice cleaning though the fabric. "I keep it very sharp. It's a throwing knife." His eyes looked at Misty again. "I'll repeat myself. Misty, _do_ you trust me with your life?"

Misty found all she could do was look at the metal in his hand. Her tongue refused to move.

"You're crazy, Ash!" Brock yelled.

"You could kill her!" Tracey exclaimed.

Ash looked at them, plainly saying that that was the idea. "I know."

"You can't do that!" Gary snapped.

Again he looked at Misty, whole still couldn't make any noise. "Well, Misty? True friends trust each other. I'd trust you if you decided to throw it at me. You can do it if you want." He gripped her wrist and placed the knife in her hand.

It was strangely warm, like it was alive. Misty couldn't hear the arguments the men were making, attention focused on the metal. There were no gems embedded in it, but an intricate gold pattern of connected tiny dots. Misty twisted her wrist so the sunlight would dance on the hilt. It was perfectly balanced, but Misty doubted if she could throw it accurately.

"Well, Misty?" Ash's quiet voice echoed through her reverie. Her eyes blinked, and she saw herself looking into Ash's brown eyes, which mirrored her own. In essence, she was looking right into her own eyes. "Allow me to prove my trust to you, and you can do the same for me." Misty watched dumbly as Ash moved back against a thick tree almost thirty feet away. "Throw it."

She finally found her voice. "No! I'd kill you!" she screeched, almost dropping the knife.

He lowered his head to look at her from under his bangs and eyebrows. A hunted look danced against them. "This is an act of trust. No one will die." He sounded so sure.

"Ash, all those years alone did something to your head," Gary swore, grabbing the knife away from Misty's trembling hand. She still held her gaze and hand there, transfixed at the position the knife had been in. "You're suicidal."

Ash moved away from the tree slowly. "Am I?" He seemed actually interested in the answer. His eyes were still sparkling dangerously, as if a lamp was shining on the other side.

The look put Gary off for a moment, but the words found themselves quick enough. "And you need help!" Gary continued, holding the knife out towards Ash's chest. Then he saw what he was doing and quickly brought the knife back.

"That I won't disagree on. We all need help," Ash agreed quietly, then held out his hand. "My knife, please. I won't kill anyone with it, either." His eyes lightened at the statement for a moment.

Reluctantly, Gary handed over the knife slowly, ready to draw it back at a moment's notice. "You'd better not, Ketchum."

Ash held the knife, not looking at his friends' worried faces. "So you _don't_ trust me," he said levelly, bringing the challenge back up. He smiled crookedly, then with a lightening quick motion turned quickly and then the knife fly. It ended up center in the tree, pinning a leaf that had been falling against the bark. The knife was still quivering when he walked up and pulled it out.

"I don't trust me either." He looked back at them. "But I certainly won't miss." With that, he picked up his bag from the branch a started to leave their sight.

Pikachu let out a small sigh. "Pikapi," she cooed, running after him.

The four watched the sliced leaf lay on the ground.

*****

"Hello," Mrs. Ketchum smiled brightly at the group, picking up a flowerpot from the ground. The garden wasn't as beautiful as it normally was, mostly because of the season, but also because Mrs. Ketchum hadn't been around to take care of it during the last few months of summer, and none of them were that great of gardeners. Around her head four of Ash's Hummers danced and twirled, their wings a blur. In the late afternoon, the sun sparkled off their feathers, making them seem like flying gems even in the bare landscape.

"Hello, Mrs. Ketchum," they all replied dutifully as more Hummers escaped the flowers and came over to inspect them. They seemed to be multiplying, for Ash had only had five when he arrived.

Mr. Mime eagerly took the flowerpot. "Thank you, Mimey. How is everything?" she asked absently, holding up a hand so a Hummer could land on it.

They lied. "Fine."

"That's good. If you're hungry, supper is almost ready."

"PIKACHU!" Pikachu yelled, jumping up onto the handrail by the steps. When she saw the four, she waved happily, then scampered back inside.

"It must be done," Mrs. Ketchum said happily as the Hummer flew off. "Come on, Mimey. You can come too," she added as an afterthought, looking at the four and pulling off her gloves.

"Is Ash here, Mrs. Ketchum?" Tracey asked as they made their way into the house, barely missing not stepping on the sleeping Ragman, for now it was too cold for it to sleep outside. (Ash actually scoffed at that excuse when he had seen it sleeping in the house that first morning, and the dirty Pokémon had avoided meeting its Trainer's gaze until . . . well, it still avoided Ash's amused gaze.) They had spent most of the last few hours trying to find him again, somewhat worried about him after the leaf incident and leaving him with any sharp objects.

Mrs. Ketchum's smile widened as she opened the oven. "Yes. He's in his room taking a nap." She said "nap" in a way that made the listener think that only little kids took them, and that her son was, in fact, a little boy. Since Ash had returned, Mrs. Ketchum had taken to mothering him a bit, having a handkerchief every time he sneezed and making sure both of his socks matched, that sort of thing. Misty was silently praying that the day never came when Ash would tell her to shut up and leave him alone.

"Do you want one of us to go wake him up?" Brock asked as he started to go towards the cupboards. Mr. Mime looked at him dangerously, just daring him to continue. The breeder took the hint and sat down, figuring that there was always breakfast.

She looked thoughtful. "He did look very tired, and he was cranky." Misty smiled at the word choice.

"How can you tell?" Gary muttered, watching as the plate was set down in front of him.

She took the question seriously as she tested the meal. "Oh, he just looked very upset about something. He wouldn't say why or about what though, and I told him he needed to take a nap." Mrs. Ketchum turned her view another way. "But he's been sleeping for the past few hours, so he's probably okay. And he needs to eat something. Would any of you mind?"

They didn't answer for a moment, wondering if Ash slept with a knife or gun under his pillow.

"Pika!" Pikachu said, scurrying out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

Misty sighed with relief, then looked around the kitchen. It was cozy and very plain, a comfortable air around it. She always loved coming to the Ketchum residence, at least Mrs. Ketchum's. It was like Mrs. Ketchum's aura melted into the house—cheery, warm, maternal, no sense of malice in it.

Her eyes drifted over to look into the living room, where pictures lines the wall, proudly displaying the child of the house. There were pictures of the boy she remembered, but then there were pictures Ash had given his mother, pictures of him while he was gone. They were of him, for the most part, although some had who Misty recognized as Miriam (she hadn't changed that much) picking on him, having him in a headlock or such. There was also another girl, green-haired and blue-eyed, and Misty figured it was—what was her name again? Shamin by what Miriam had said. She looked thin and pale, but Misty noticed that she grew to be more popular in the pictures as Ash aged, and a lot closer to him too.

Misty was surprised at the photos. Mrs. Ketchum said Ash had kept them in a carefully labeled album, and that he knew his mom would like to see them when he came home. He must have had to develop like a hundred rolls. Forethought and consideration, something Ash had seemingly perfected over the years.

_Among other things_, Misty added sadly. Suspicion, neutrality, mystery, and subdued sense of fear in something, himself maybe.

"Mrs. Ketchum, don't you ever wonder what happened to Ash during those years?" she asked suddenly, causing everyone to jump. _She must_, Misty thought. _We all do_. When Mrs. Ketchum had returned from Ziganka—the Ketchum family had spent some time there the past few months for some family re-acquaintance time—it didn't look like she had any of her questions answered.

Mrs. Ketchum looked down at her food, moving it around as she thought. Then she looked up, smiling slightly. "Oh, of course I do, but I know Ash'll tell me when he's ready. Li said to just give him some time, but that's easy for him to say. He's used to waiting." Then she blushed. "I hope it's soon."

"Did you ever ask him to tell you?" Tracey asked. The other three saw where this was going. Ash would do almost anything for him mom. If she asked, maybe he would tell them. Maybe?

"No. Li said I shouldn't. Why do you ask?"

"Because they deduced that I would probably tell you if you did," Ash answered in a hard tone, entering the kitchen, now wearing his normal long-sleeved shirt. He has also perfected the art of being absolutely quiet. As he sat down, Ash looked hard at the four guilty members. Pikachu did as well, although not nearly as severe. The mouse seemed torn between her loyalty to her Trainer and her worry about him.

"Well, I don't have to ask," Mrs. Ketchum smiled happily. "You'll tell me someday, won't you sweetie." It wasn't even in the form of a question.

Ash didn't answer, focusing his stare on his "friends". "Supper looks good, Mom." This was from a guy who hadn't even looked at the food yet.

"Thanks, Pumpkin. Your Hummers really are wonderful, you know. The whole town loves them, except about the incident with the balloons." She frowned slightly, remembering the complaints she had received.

"They're not mine," Ash replied quietly, starting to eat. "Not all of them, anyway."

"Whose are they, then?" Gary asked.

Ash didn't respond for a moment, eyes closed. Pikachu bowed her head, not meeting anyone's gaze. "Shamin's." He shook his head, as if trying to remove the name from his brain.

"And who's that?" Brock asked, interested.

It was exceedingly quiet while waiting for Ash's response. Although Ash seemed willing not the answer, the silence seemed to form an oppressive shell around him that forced the response from his lips. "She was . . . just a friend," he finally answered, after almost a minute. "Haven't seen her since the . . ." He stopped, shaking his head.

"Not since the Constellation League?" Tracey inquired, remembering the conversation Miriam and Ash had had earlier in the day.

"Since then," Ash agreed quietly.

Pikachu patted her trainer's arm comfortingly. "Pikapi," she cooed.

"Was she a Trainer?" Misty asked, looking down the hall at the pictures. There was a picture with Shamin hugging Pikachu with Ash wincing over on the side and Miriam and her Ninetales on the other. Misty had to piece together the clues from the picture. It looked like the fox had bitten Ash or something.

He made a half-smile and petted Pikachu. "Sort of. The first Pokémon Shamin caught was . . ." He paused, thinking for a moment.

"Chu! Chupi ka pikachu!" Pikachu responded, a note of disapproval in her voice. "Chu pikachu pika pikachu Chupi Pikachu!"

He chuckled, nodding. "I did say caught, not stole, though," Ash corrected after he thought about it, still down Memory Lane and seemingly unaware that he had an audience. "Was Hula, wasn't it? With Trigger?" Pikachu nodded her agreement after a very long time meditating on the answer.

"She stole Pokémon?" Misty demanded.

"Stole more than that, although not many Pokémon because of my"—he chuckled quietly—"'_grumblegrumbledamn-frickingmubmlegrumble_ morals and such. . .'" Ash trailed off distantly, shoving food up to his mouth. He continued, still unconcerned that he was divulging information.

"Shamin was a pick-pocket, thanks to Miriam. Be careful around her. She could still steal anything from _almost_ anyone." He smirked momentarily. "They were the ones who helped me get into Professor Oak's computers, and then make new Pokédexes." Ash shrugged, although Misty thought he was forcing indifference. "Shamin played, or claimed to play, the guitar. Said she'd been on the streets . . . five years, since her folks split." Again he shrugged, eating. "They were nice, I thought, when I met them after she—"

Ash suddenly stopped talking, like he had nothing more to say on the subject, and indeed like he had never brought it up in the first place.

"Pika, Pikapi?"

He took an almost too deep of a breath, so deep that Misty thought he'd pass out. Then he forced a smile. "Thanks for the meal, Mom. I'm going to go get some air, look at the stars or something. You wanna come, Pikachu?"

"Pi."

"Okay, Ash," Mrs. Ketchum smiled, although it too looked forced. Worry etched her eyes, and not because Ash had barely touched his plate. He nodded at each of them in turn, then walked out of the room. The door outside was opened and shut soon afterwards.

The table was quiet until Brock spoke with finality and certainty.

"She dumped him."

*****

"Ash?" Misty knocked on the door again, biting her bottom lip in slight worry. "Ash?" Still no answer.

Misty looked down the hall to see if anyone was within sight, then slowly opened the door. Sorry, but during her entire stay at the Ketchum residence since Ash had returned, he had _always_ been up at dawn, or earlier. Of course, she wasn't exactly sure about his sleeping schedule when he and his parents had gone back to Ziganka, but Misty assumed it hadn't changed. Now it was almost eleven-thirty. Normally she'd allow someone to have a Sleep-In-Late Day, but something in Ash's manner worried her, telling her that letting him sleep in would be like letting him sleep forever.

"Ash?" she whispered, looking around the dim room. The curtains were drawn, letting in only traces of light. More light would enter when the wind blew the curtains further out into the room, making it seem a bit ominous.

"Pikachu?"

"Hey, Pikachu," Misty smiled, seeing the familiar Pokémon resting on the bed next to the sprawled-out form of Ash. "Umm, you hungry?" she added, suddenly embarrassed at what she was doing.

Pikachu shook her head. "Chu." Then she petted Ash's hair.

"Okay."

Cautiously Misty took a step in and shut the door. Pikachu looked up briefly and smiled. "Chu pika Pikapi," she whispered, continuing to stroke the blond hair.

"I wish I could understand what you say," Misty sighed, leaning against the door. "You'd tell us what happened to Ash, right?"

Pikachu nodded slightly, although she did not look at Misty in the eye. Misty knew Pikachu wouldn't directly disobey Ash, but the Pokémon would try to do everything in her power to protect him from himself, if need be.

Misty looked around the room. She hadn't been in it since Ash moved it, and she found it remarkable at how much it hadn't changed. Yes, it was neater, but the Pokémon toys that had been in there for years were still there, stacked with great care, like they were the most important things in the world. She had thought Ash would have tossed out the toys, as he wasn't a little boy anymore. He had always made such a big deal about being oh-so-grown-up as a kid, especially when she made some comment that implied that he wasn't. Over in the corner—seemingly hidden—her keen eyes spied the delivery box, which Misty knew housed a number of trophies and badges. In a sense, it also surprised her to see them not displayed, but concealed in the plain box. Ash had always been a show-off as a child, but now he was a lot more withdrawn.

Her eyes went over to the man in question. Ash was sleeping on the bed that almost seemed to be too small for him. He was lying on his stomach, and Misty thought that he must have fallen asleep the second his body touched the soft material. He was still in his clothes from yesterday, even his shoes, and he wasn't under a blanket, per say. Sometime during the night, it looked like Pikachu—maybe even Mrs. Ketchum—had covered him up with a spare blanket that was now half off him. One arm was wrapped around a pillow; the other hung limply off the side.

Carefully she walked over, now suddenly curious to see how much Ash had changed physically. Lucky his face was turned towards her, and she knelt down to study it, sending back a wisp of yellow that lay in her way with a soft and gentle hand.

The blond was starting to grow out. At the roots Misty could see the signs of Ash's original black seeping out to reclaim the hair. Aside from the color and length, the hair still had the same properties it had during his youth, if free. The confining ponytail he usually wore it in hid the way it stuck out wildly, heedless of what combs and brushes ever order it to do.

His face was longer and more defined, like his father's, and still very tan. The cheeks were less full of the traces of baby fat Ash still had at twelve. The nose, also a feature of his father's Ash had received, was still there, the pert nose that would accent the bold and stubbornness he had inside him. Some people had those kinds of noses, and Ash was one of them. He had grown into his ears at least, she chuckled. His lips were like his mother's, something more at home in a smile than in a frown he usually wore. On his chin had grown some morning stubble, which he would shave once he woke up.

The eyes were hard to gage since they weren't opened, but Misty thought they were wider than most men's were, giving Ash a sort of feministic accent to his face. They were truly his mother's in color and traits, the power and peace behind them. Right now Misty could see his eyelids moving as he dreamed. Whether the dream was pleasant or otherwise Misty was unsure, for his face gave no indication.

True, he was no drop-dead gorgeous guy, but all and all, a girl would probably consider herself very lucky if she caught his eye.

"Pikachu?"

"Hmm?" Misty asked dimly, looking at the mouse. The mouse looked back, and Misty remembered her supposed reason for coming in here. "Do you think I should wake him up?"

"Pi," Pikachu said after a moment.

"All right. Ash," she called. "Come on Ash, wake up." Ash made a small murmur, wrinkling his face as he started to wake up. "Wake up." She touched his shoulder gently to shake him.

Suddenly her wrist was grabbed tightly by his right hand, Ash's brown eyes wide open and taking a deep intake of breath. Misty bit her lip to keep from crying out in pain, his grasp was so tight. He blinked in surprise, bringing her into focus as he rolled onto his side. "What are you doing?" he whispered. He actually whispered.

"Waking you up. I thought you might be hungry, and it's almost noon." Her eyes darted to her wrist. "Let go, please."

His eyes followed his arm to his hand, seeing the grip he had on her. He released it quickly, pushing himself up. Misty rubbed her wrist, not surprised to see the red marks left by his fingertips. She wouldn't be surprised if it bruised either.

"Sorry," he grunted, pushing himself off the bed.

"It's all right," Misty lied, still kneeling down. "Your hair's growing out."

Ash turned around and looked at her in surprise, running a hand through his hair self-consciously. "How long have you been in here?"

"Not long," she said quickly, getting up. "You didn't hear me when I knocked. Still a heavy sleeper." He made no comment, but yawned slightly and rubbed his eye with the heel of his palm like a five-year-old might do. "So what are you going to do today?"

"My business," Ash replied curtly, looking at her from over his shoulder.

"You know, we _are_ still your friends," she said hotly, upset over his actions. "So why don't you just drop the damn attitude?"

"Attitude," Ash repeated quietly, turning to face her.

"Yeah, attitude. That stupid knife thing."

"I wasn't going to throw it because I knew you wouldn't let me," he snapped. "And if you had, I sure as hell wouldn't have missed. Listen, Misty, my life is my own, and I don't have to share my mistakes or whatever _you_ think they are with you or anyone if I don't want to."

Misty looked at him angrily. "But you should! Dammit, you know how worried everyone was when you took off? You didn't even think of us, did you?" She saw his jaw tighten. "You could at least tell us what happened to you so we can figure out if our worry was in vain or not."

"I thought of you guys a lot." He replied, tone level. "And you should feel grateful that I did. Stopped me from doing a lot of stupid things."

"Didn't stop you from leaving us!" Misty shot back. "That was pretty stupid."

"Not saying it wasn't."

His voice was so calm—damn it, it always was! Couldn't he for once just _yell_?—that Misty's temper seemed to die down. There had to be more to that statement. "Yeah?" she said sarcastically.

"I could have done a lot of dumber things, Misty," he stated, still calm.

Even the sarcasm left her. "Like?"

Ash shrugged, closing his eyes. "Have you ever been so . . . angry, so—" he seemed to be struggling for the right word, but couldn't find it—"so utterly destroyed that you've almost done something you'd regret the rest of your life?" He voice was distant, like he was speaking from across a crowed room.

She hadn't, not that she could remember. "Uh-huh?"

"I was. Once. More that once, probably." He opened his eyes to look at her, and something about them made her step back unconsciously. "But once, had I done it, acted upon that impulse, it would have been murder. Cold-blooded murder. I could have done something _that_ stupid, Misty. My hands were around that guy's neck and squeezing for everything that happened—damn, he wasn't breathing, I gripped his jugular so tightly. I really just wanted to kill him, everything that bastard stood for. But I didn't—couldn't—because I thought of you guys." Ash closed his eyes and brought a hand up to his forehead, covering his eyes like a visor. He was sucking his teeth, and it seemed to Misty that he was forcing the words out.

"Something broke through at the very last second and I saw that guy. I saw _me_, and words echoed in my head. It was happening just like that Trainer said. To _**me**_. And I saw everybody I ever knew. I knew I couldn't come back here with that, and I wanted to come back at that moment—damn, I did so much I wished I could have just teleported right then and there and just _run_. I wanted to go _Home_, Misty, however short I'd be welcomed or could manage." He shook his head. "So thank you."

Misty looked at him in a stupor. Ash, commit murder? The words wouldn't come together in her mind to form a realistic fact. "What happened?"

Again Ash shrugged, taking a deep breath and bringing his hand down. "Maybe some day I'll tell you. Maybe. Someday."

"Why can't you tell us now?" Misty pleaded. "Is what happened to you so bad that you did such terrible things that you're ashamed to tell us?"

He blinked at her in surprise. "Not entirely."

"Then why?"

He sighed. "Because, Misty, I don't want to remember all of it. I wouldn't be able to stop remembering."

"You can't just forget," Misty stated, placing her hands on her hips. "Look, the sooner you accept it, the sooner you'll start to be able to remember without being so . . . melodramatic."

Ash blew the bangs out of his eyes. "I've already accepted my life, Misty, but I don't see the point in telling you it."

"That's because you're afraid." It was a wild theory that caused Ash to look away, allowing Misty to know that she was right, in a sense. "You are, aren't you?"

"Never said I wasn't."

"Oh, can the damn smart-ass remarks," she ordered. "What are you afraid of?"

"I told you. Memories. It's hell to lay awake and remember, to sleep and remember." He held his chin. "Relive stupid mistakes, and worry about what's coming."

"What is?"

Ash looked at her. "I don't know," he sighed.

She snorted. "Ash, look, put your blasted pride on the wall. We all want to know what happened to you. Gary's dying to know about all the leagues,"—Ash's eyes darted up in quiet surprise, like he hadn't even noticed—"Brock's probably trying to ask Miriam, Heaven help her, on a date, and Tracey's interested in the Pokémon. And your mom and I are just wondering what happened to you. You've been home over three months and you haven't let any of us—not even your mom—in a crack."

"Pikachu!"

His eyes quickly looked at Pikachu, who was standing alongside Misty. "Regular Benedict Arnold," he muttered, but there was a faint smile on his face.

"Chu," Pikachu corrected. "'Pikachu Ka Kapi.'" Misty sounded like she was quoting something, and Ash, after a moment of confusion, smiled weakly, shaking his head. Misty wished she could understand Pikachu-nese.

In any case, Misty took Pikachu's support as a tip in the scale. "Even Pikachu wants you to tell someone. She's worried about you too." Ash was still quiet, unconvinced. "Look, you either tell us, or I'll never let it drop until you do!"

Ash sighed, closed his eyes, and ran his hands through his hair, thus unintentionally freeing it from the loose ponytail it was in. He was definitely too tired to put up with this crap. He was surprised he put up with it for so long. "This is some master plan, isn't it?" he murmured quietly, leaning his head back. Misty was unsure if he was talking to some unseen deity or to her. She figured it didn't matter in either case.

"Yes, it is."

He was silent, breathing deeply, and it seemed like he had fallen asleep while he stood. Pikachu timidly walked over to him and tapped his leg.

"Pikapi?" Ash didn't respond or act like he had even aware of the Pokémon. "_Pikapi!_"

Ash opened his eyes and looked down at Pikachu, smiling at her worry. Then he looked at Misty, or past her, cocking his head sideways like he was considering something. His eyes were vacant, and Misty thought somehow different. It was just inkling she had, something she couldn't place her finger on.

"Do you believe in Destiny, Misty?" he asked as he picked up Pikachu.

She looked at him, slightly confused. "You mean do I think that some things, no matter how much one tries to avoid it or doesn't want it, will happen in any case?" Ash shrugged. She grinned. "Does this mean you'll tell the story if I say yes, because you _are_ destined to tell us what happened to you."

He blinked slowly at her. "Thank you for your input, but just so you know, I don't believe in it."

"What do you believe in, then?"

Ash was silent, looking away from her to the stuffed animals and then to the hidden box of trophies. Pikachu looked at him in a worried manner. "It sure as hell ain't that sort of Destiny. That's just admitting defeat for everything you've done in your life, that you didn't do any of it. And I'm not doing that, no matter what."

Misty tilted her head, confused. "Why do you say that?"

Again he looked at her, and he spoke quietly. "Because if I didn't, my entire life wouldn't even be mine. Let them take everything else from me, but I want my life." He closed his eyes and sighed. Then, in a voice so quiet that Misty couldn't hear, he said something else.

"What?" she asked tentatively.

His eyes opened, and they were bright even in the dim room as he looked at his closed window. Within a moment, he was next to the window and holding back the curtain to look at the calm scene. His lips were suddenly tight, and Misty was surprised that he looked upset about something. Pikachu pressed her nose against the glass, scanning as well, but not seeing what Ash had. "Of all the bloody idiots . . . damn."

"What?" she asked, coming up to him and looking as well.

He looked at her after a moment of scanning the area. "Pardon?"

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he feigned with innocence. Misty looked at him sharply, and he edited his statement. "It's . . . just a feeling. Nothing that concerns you."

"If it concerns you, it concerns all of us," she stated. "Everything."

"Pika!" Pikachu stated, jumping onto the sill and looking at the yard with a dangerous look. She had a pretty good feeling as to what was out there now, and she was just waiting for something to grab her trail and swing her like a lasso.

Ash looked at them, and then made a slow smile at their loyalties. He shook his head, hanging his head, eyes hidden by his bangs as he looked back out the window. "I pray for you, then, and hope to Mew that it never comes time for you to prove your words, Misty."

*****

Gary was lounging on the Ketchum couch, Umbreon resting on his chest. Even if the Pokémon was larger than his unevolved form, it didn't bother Gary that much. "He cracked. 'Bout time too," he muttered, petting the soft fur. He had never gotten around to deciding on which way to evolve, whether it would be fire, water, or electric. Truth be told, he actually hadn't wanted to evolve his Eevee by stone. He had done research, and Pokémon change after they evolve, especially with stones. It was a well-known fact that Vaporean tended to be less attentive, Flareon was too focused, and Jolteon was a bit rebellious. In the end, Gary decided to wait on it. Of course, on the plus side, if Eevee would evolve into an Espeon or an Umbreon, as he had, well, everyone knew Psychic were some of the strongest Pokémon around . . .

This whole month of training went by, most of it wasted on tailing Ash, and the other two months before that weren't much better, sticking around and trying to figure out what was going on. Gary hadn't even gotten up the guts to demand that they do their match, because now Gary knew Ash was very good. The Trainer wasn't afraid of losing, no, not of that. One needed to lose to be a great Trainer. What worried Gary was Ash. Sure, he used the alibi that he wanted to know about the Leagues, but that wasn't it. As a kid, Gary had respected Ash, in the way bullies respect other lesser bullies. But now, after the years had taken their toll on Ash, Gary had to wonder what caused it. Ash had been strong, determined, stubborn, and hothead. If their current roles had been reversed, Ash would have demanded the match that Gary put off, no matter what the odds were against him. Something had caused Ash to become distant, and Gary was silently praying it wasn't Pokémon. Not that he'd ever say it, although by now everyone knew it, Gary was worried about Ash, his friend.

God, never thought he'd think of Ash as that again, had he ever. Gary was unsure on that point.

Gary looked up at the ceiling, dislodging the sudden bombing of memories he deemed unimportant to remember by shifting his brain to another subject. He liked to think about things, about how his opponents battle. That's one thing he always figured made him a better Trainer than Ash. Ash would have walked into a match blindfolded and felt confident for a win. Gary could have done the same thing with the same results. That didn't make a good Trainer. You had to think, to plan, to make a strategy. Apparently Ash had figured this out along the way.

_Dammit, he had to be a Master—well, a better Trainer— before me!_ Gary thought angrily. _Even being asked to join the Elite. And he turned it down! Idiot!_

Believe it or not, Gary always knew Ash would be a great Trainer, but Gary had always figured he'd always be greater than Ash would. It had slightly irked Gary the way his grandpa had cheered for Ash. Okay, so Professor Oak had cheered for Gary as well, but Professor Oak had also cheered for Ash. And, of course when Ash and Gary battled, Grandpa stood by him, always confident that he would beat Ash, that his grandson was the better Trainer. Still, Grandpa did root for Ash . . .

_Oh, stop being so childish_, Gary chided himself. _Maybe I can battle Ash today, after he tells his life story. Hard to believe I'm waiting to hear that! Wonder if he's going to go back to those Leagues. I'll have to ask him. Grandpa says they must be really hard to find, because everyone thinks they're legends. Hidden Leagues, now _that_ sounds like a challenge._

Gary grinned.

Slowly, he pushed himself up to a sitting position, allowing Umbreon to rearrange himself on his lap. Gary looked around the room, eyes falling on Mr. Mime as it tried to sweep up Ragman. _A very interesting Pokémon_, Gary thought. The Ketchum family—at least Ash and Mrs. Ketchum, anyway—seemed to have a remarkable talent with Pokémon.

In the kitchen he could hear Mrs. Ketchum cooking something up. Gary smiled momentarily. He probably gained ten pounds from her cooking. Actually, to him, Mrs. Ketchum was a bit of a mystery. At times it seemed like she couldn't tell a mop from a tree, and then other times nothing would slip her gaze. It was like she was constantly trying to act a part that was set out for her, the part of a dizzy woman, but was actually very smart and capable of handling herself in any situation, if only by feeding the competition into submission. Right now she was making popcorn.

Tracey and Brock were over discussing one of Ash's Hummers. They were trying to figure out what their special talent was, something Ash had slipped on but wouldn't divulge. It was nothing terrible, he assured them, but a very interesting ability that one—or at least he—could live without. The stupid things gave Gary a headache with their _buzz-buzz-buzzing_, but even he admitted that they were interesting, in a tiny sort of way. Gary wasn't one to get worked up over size, but the little Pokémon seemed only good for a garden. His Pokédex had been useless for information on them, a fact that greatly upset his Grandpa, who taken to studying the "new" species of Pokémon Ash had.

Misty was over in the corner with Pikachu, going over a thick photo album she had stolen from Ash's room. Pikachu was pointing out all the pictures she thought were interesting, and the two were barely into the book because evidently Pikachu found a lot of the pictures interesting. Gary knew it had been taken without permission because of the expression that had briefly crossed Ash's face when he saw her with it. Gary had been expecting Ash to whip it from her hands when she looked up, but instead the blond Trainer merely turned smartly and walked outside. Gary didn't know where he went, not that he actually cared so long as Ash came back.

Gary let his eyes fall towards Misty again. She really had grown up to be beautiful, despite her appearance as a girl. Her orange hair had grown out longer, and if she didn't always wear it in the French braid it would make her look very pretty. Although, Gary conceded, the tendrils that couldn't stay in the woven arrangement did frame her face nicely. Her deep blue eyes were heavily lashed now, and her face had filled out with graceful arcs. True, she probably wouldn't win a Ms. Pokémon award, but Misty'd be a close runner-up. (She'd probably go as Ms. Dragonair. Ever since she'd caught one, it had been her favorite Water Pokémon.)

He closed his eyes a moment, trying to recall his childhood. He never actually got to know Misty—she was two years older than he and Ash were—but it seemed, when he saw them together, that she had a sort of exasperated affection for Ash. Why else would she follow him around for so long? (Gary wasn't 100% clear on their origins.) She'd had to like Ash a bit in some way, although now, if she did like him more than just a friend, she'd have a bit of a problem. Ash didn't even glance twice at a pretty face or body, much to his little unwanted fan club's dismay, although he was certainly gentleman-enough to help them out with problems. They usually ran something like:

"My Persian's stuck in a tree, Mr. Ketchum. Can you get it down?"

"No it's not."

A confused "Yes, it is."

"No, it's sitting right _next_ to the tree."

And lastly the angry, "Persian! I told you to get up that TREE!"

Gary shook his head sadly. He had always hated problems like that as a child with his own fan club. Of course, one problem Ash didn't have that Gary'd had was paying for everything, since Ash's girls followed him around without his consent. They had tried to get him to boot the bill once, as in an effect to have him talk to them, except they timed it wrong and Ash had already slipped out the door. What was worse—or delightfully funny to Gary, who had been watching the whole thing—was that none of them had money with them. Unfortunately, Brock had spoiled it by seizing the moment to bail them all out, making each and every agree to a date of some sorts.

It seemed almost staged the way Mrs. Ketchum came from the kitchen at the exact second Ash walked though the door. Both were holding something. In Mrs. Ketchum's case, it was a heaping bowl of popcorn. For Ash, it was a tiny mass of black fur that was buried in his arms. The four other young adults blinked at Ash's appearance: tiny branches and leaves embedded in his hair, dirt on his hands and face.

No one spoke for a moment.

"Anyone want some popcorn?" Mrs. Ketchum smiled.

"I'll take some, Mrs. Ketchum," Brock said.

"Whatcha got there, Ketchum?" Gary drawled, nodding his head at the fur ball as Ash sat down. He didn't bother asking about the other's appearance.

He made a small purring noise in the back of his throat before answering Gary's question, petting the ball. Suddenly a pair of emerald-green eyes appeared from the mass of black. Slowly the mass of darkness started to shift and stretch, and everyone could see that it was a tiny Pokémon, only six inches long.

"This is GipSi," Ash said in a quiet tone, still petting the exceeding furry creature, which had a mane of black fur atop her head and a stripe that went from the top of her head to the tip of her tail. A hoop earring glistened off on tiny ear. "I thought that maybe she could help."

"It's cute," Misty cooed, leaning over the book to look at it.

Brock was peering at it. "I've never actually seen one." GipSi yawned towards him, but tilted her head to allow Ash to scratch her neck. "They've just been discovered." Ash's eyes shifted up to look at Brock quizzically, but he didn't counter the statement.

"They're not native here," Tracey informed them. "It's too warm." Ash nodded off-handedly.

Pikachu leaped up into Ash's lap to sit next to the tiny creature and they started to chat.

"So what does it do?" Gary asked suspiciously, having never heard of the species himself.

"GipSie's are notorious thieves," Tracey recited, sounding like he was reading from a book. "They are those who believe that they have the power to show someone the future, but there is no hard evidence to back up these claims. All of the incidents have been proven that it was a Trainer."

Ash cleared his throat, interrupting Tracey's ditty. "GipSies _can_ allow others to see what really happened, which could make them very valuable in police investigations, except they like bright, shiny objects. And it takes _a lot_ of constant, patient training with signals." He made a quick smile, then motioned for GipSi to get off his lap. The tiny leaped onto to the floor, and Ash held his hand over it. GipSi stood on her hind legs, nose bobbing. "They are very playful though, at least at night. You don't want to sleep under a tree full of them, or even one of them, trust me on this. And they're very curious and easily distracted no matter how well trained. Probably suicidal to use in a Pokémon battle." He snapped his fingers, and GipSi did a backward flip.

"Most say they're not worth training," he finished, although it was clear he didn't agree. He clicked his tongue, which caused GipSi to suddenly disappear. Everyone sat up straighter, looking around wildly for her.

"Gip!" she said triumphantly, emerging from Ash's hair with her cheeks full of something. In her hands she had something white, and it immediately disappeared into her mouth as well.

"They, of course, don't see a GipSi's full potential," Ash smiled, tossing a few popcorn puffs into his mouth. Nearly everyone blinked, for he was nowhere near the popcorn. "Masters"—the GipSi's head snapped up, insulted—"_or_ Mistresses, as the case may be, of Illusion. And, this one, a thief's best friend. She's been trained in a twisted sort of way in larceny, thanks to the Miriam and Company." Ash made a sad smile, tossing up another puff. GipSi caught it before it started down. "They're quick learners in that area. A little too quick at times."

"Wow," Gary muttered, scratching Umbreon's ear.

"So what are you going to do with her?" Brock asked.

It seemed like Ash had forgotten about the reason why he brought GipSi here. It was a trait he had not lost totally from childhood, Gary thought. If he found something interesting, Ash's inhibitions usually lessened and his tongue moved much more freely. That is until he remembered what he was talking about. Ash stopped smiling and carefully removed GipSi from his head.

"Pikachu, Pikapi," Pikachu said sternly.

He took a deep breath, then let out three piercing notes. Instantly GipSi arched her tail and whipped around, sending a small orb to fly free into the middle of the room. It hovered in the air until GipSi turned and held out her small paws, causing the small marble-sized object to drift closer. Then she looked up, as if waiting for her next command.

"GipSies can allow a sort of image to project around them of whatever they want," Ash sighed, eyes closed, explaining what was going on. "I know I can't explain everything, so I won't try. This is just an illusion, like you'll be watching a movie or so. You get a nice 3rd person perspective. Try not to do anything stupid."

Gary snorted, wondering what kind of stupidity someone could do. Then again, this was Ash who was talking.

"Remarkable," Tracey breathed, quickly sketching the scene on the notepad Mrs. Ketchum kept for jotting down phone numbers or other such messages.

Ash opened his eyes to look at each of them in turn, seeing if they were ready. There wasn't a trace of a smile on his lips, and his eyes were dull. And then he let out one more piercing note.

The result was instantaneous. GipSi's eyes started to glow a shining green, the orb in front of her glowing a milky sheen. The lights that lit the room, even those that came from the window, seemed to be shut out. The milky white light started to spread, growing in size. Gary's eyes were wide as it started to envelop him. He couldn't see his hands, or Umbreon! It was like they were disappearing! He tried to talk, to tell Umbreon to stop it, but his voice had evaporated. He couldn't hear anything, except his own heart beating, and even that disappeared.

Everything was white. The Ketchum living room was nonexistent. Suddenly words could be heard.

"Stop them! THIEF! Police!"

"DIVE!"

"Get away from him, Charizard. You cannot protect him here and now."

A cheery laugh. "Welcome to the Tunnels, Blondie!"

Panic etched the next voice. "Don't let go!"

"You stole that!"

"Whatcha writin'?"

"There he is!"

"What's going on!"

"Ash, didn't you know? You don't _pause_ or _stop_ a battle here. It's still going on."

"It's Team Rocket."

"Get it away!"

A blubbly giggle.

And then silence again. The voices echoed in his brain. Through the whiteness, a set a green eyes could be seen— GipSi's. They were enormous, and Gary felt like they were looking right at him. A soft voice was spoken, but not spoken aloud, similar to like a Psychic Pokémon would use. It was like a very rapid chant, although not a very good one in Gary's opinion. In fact, he thought that it was really, _really_ bad, with a lot of missing words.

_Sights you I 'queath._

_Soulies mingle as one_

_Knowledge 'n' memory shared._

_Blend inta one,_

_Truth to, Lies to_

_Of Death, f Life_

_Together._

Then there was a pause.

_I really have ta tink up new chant, don'tcha tink? Can I ave more poppy corn?_

_This not work? Why not?_

_Oh . . . yes. Me silly._

_**Conjoin.**_

The eyes shut . . . . .. and the room fell into a Dream . . . . . . or a Nightmare.

_**POKÉDEX**_

Hummer—the Bird Pokémon:

This tiny flying Pokémon originates from the Avian Range, and is very quick and agile. Hummer has a needle-like beak and comes in a variety of colors. They are a favorite of gardeners, for they drink the nectar and spread pollen. Although extremely tiny, this Pokémon uses attacks like Dive Bomb and Noise Level to attack its opponents. [return]

Ragman—the Hobo Pokémon:

Found usually in the alleyways of the largest cities, this nomadic Pokémon is able to blend in against any background. A hood covers its face, so no one actually knows what this Pokémon's face looks like. When afraid, this Pokémon can released a strong stench, but it usually smells fine. They pick up a variety of odd and ends that most people throw away, and will not part with their "treasures" without a fight. [return]

GipSi—the Squirrel Pokémon:

An exceedingly rare and shy Pokémon, GipSi is a creature with unusual talents. Hidden within the curl of its tail is a small round crystal that GipSi uses in its most powerful attacks. By simply wishing, GipSi can allow a trainer or another Pokémon a glimpse of their Future or Past. If frightened, the events shown can be the most dreadful. No one is actually sure if the future events shown are true, but most believe they are. They are very difficult to train, for they respond to tones and actions better than to a command and are easily distracted. Due to this fact, a GipSi's true list of attacks is greatly unknown, even to the Pokémon themselves. GipSi is common to the Pooka Valley and Forests, and is a nocturnal Pokémon by nature. [return]


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter Two: The Urge

The whole house was in darkness, except one room.

Ash bit the eraser at the end of his pencil self-consciously, trying to think clearly during the middle of the night. He looked at his list again, and then finally wrote down "To be a Pokémon Master". It was a biggie in that column, so he put a star next to it, a really big star.

"Pikachu?" Pikachu asked, looking down at the paper as she munched on the apple he had given her.

He tapped his pencil rapidly, rereading his list. A part of him told him that this was crazy, and he agreed with it.

"I still want to, Pikachu," he sighed. "I mean, I know where Dad's coming from now, but I have to have the chance, right?"

"Pika," she agreed whole-heartedly.

Ash sighed. Going to Pikachu for support was stupid. She'd do whatever he wanted to, so long as she was with him. He bit his bottom lip self-consciously, really wondering if this was the right way to go. To run away, wasn't that a bit extreme? A bit stupid?

It wasn't really all that bad here, Ash thought loyally as he stretched his arms, trying to stifle a yawn. He thought it was going to be a lot worse than what it was with his dad. His dad wasn't really all that bad. Actually, he was kind of fun, provided he wasn't busy with work. Ash remembered when he first saw his father after what, five years? He thought the guy was going to be a dictator. But really, he didn't know how to actually _be_ a father, so he fell into what he did know: being a tough businessman.

Ash went over to his bed, grabbing the list as he stood, and laid down. Pikachu hopped onto his chest and he petted her head absently, dimly remembering he was breaking the number one law of the house. It had taken him awhile to figure out why his father hadn't wanted Pokémon around. His father was from this side of the world, the more technology-driven side. His mom was, well, from Pallet by birth, where Pokémon _were_ a way of life. The Pokémon on this side of the world were more troublesome, getting into things and breaking into homes. A few years back, Ash found out, a village was attacked by a flight of birds. (The reporter didn't know what kind of Pokémon it was, but Ash figured it was a Spearow flock.) A lot of people were injured, some even died. Over here, Pokémon were just a very annoying—and in some cases dangerous—pest. It was a rare person that owned one, and they were usually the first blamed if anything—the daily milk being spilt—went wrong. And it didn't help his father's perspective on Pokémon when a few of them broke into his house and trashed the place. Of course, maybe if he knew that Pikachu was making sure that none of them broke it again . . .

It struck Ash as strange that his parents married, being on the opposite side of the spectrum for _everything_. His mom had just gotten out of high school—Dad was in the middle of college—and decided to go on a tour this side of the world with some of her friends. She, of course, got lost on the last day, with no idea as to what was going on, and spent almost a whole day trying to find her group. She literally ran into her future husband, causing both of them to tumble down the stairs. His dad said that he'd had a hard time staying mad at her because she was so beautiful.

It turned out that Mom missed her flight back home (Ash found he couldn't be surprised), so his dad said if she waited awhile he could lend her the money to get back. Well, of course one thing led to another, and young love is so blind and impetuous, so it wasn't long before his mom was pregnant with him. (She had been staying with his father for almost a year, seemingly never remembering to ask for a ticket back home.) They got married, out of love and him.

They stayed in Ziganka for a few years, but his mom was homesick for Pallet. His father couldn't just leave his practice, very small back then, and there was no way he could watch Ash, who was into everything by now. And they both agreed that Pallet would probably be a better environment for Ash to grow up in than Ziganka.

So Mrs. Ketchum finally got her ticket back home.

As he had grown up, his father had become a distant memory in his mind, the regular letter or gift, and the even rarer visit. Had his parents been together, Ash probably would have been raised a bit more strictly than what he was, but they hadn't, so he hadn't. Sometime during all of this his father suddenly realized that Ash was growing up, and had wanted to have Ash under _his_ roof for a while. It had been a nasty blow to his mother, but she couldn't turn his father down and be selfish. That wasn't like her at all.

Ash remembered crying under the willow with his mom. She had been supportive of his side, but also of his father's, and of his views of Pokémon. He wished she hadn't, even though now he knew she was telling the truth. Right now Ash dimly remembered falling asleep, his mother's arms still around him protectively. They had always sat at that tree when he was younger, scared or angry at something. At the time, he thought he was dreaming when he heard voices talking. Maybe he _had_ dreamed the entire conversation up.

_"I'm not making a very good impression, am I?"_

_"No, you're not. Li, he doesn't even understand why he can't have Pokémon. Let him keep Pikachu."_

_"You know I can't, Hanako. You remember how it is over there, and really it's gotten worse. Pokémon are pests or pets under surveillance, and if he has them at the first sign of trouble they'll be blamed. God, I can barely stand the little devils, even after those nature hikes you put me through."_

_His mother laughed a little._ _"You were so difficult, but admit it, you learned to like them a bit. And Pikachu's not that bad once she gets to know you._"

_"That's not the point. It doesn't matter if I don't mind the Pokémon. I'm not the one needing to be convinced. The whole city'll want them killed is a balloon pops on my street. It'll be even worse for him if his favorite one is exterminated, whether by mod or city. You know for a fact he won't agree to have her electric sacs disabled permanently."_

_"You're right, of course."_

_"And having Pokémon is terrible, even once having them and liking the sport is looked down on. He's going to have a tough time with kids his own age. You saw how he acted when I pushed the right buttons, and I was being nice, believe it or not." His mother gave a small laugh. "They won't. He'd say it wouldn't matter what they'd say, and that's probably true for him. But what they do will matter. Schools tough, and the actual school won't totally side with us."_

_"I do get the point."_

_"And you know how hard it is to be a Master."_

_"But everyone does need a dream. And look how hard it is to be a successful businessman! You made it. Why shouldn't he try?"_

_"He needs a decent education to get by in the world."_

_"Yes. At least high school. I suppose I have let his studies take the backseat."_

_"See my point. Pokémon will just distract him as well." There was a long pause. "Come on, let's get him inside."_

_"My legs fell asleep."_

_"Oh, Hanako," A sigh, and Ash felt himself rising up into strong arms. "He's not that heavy."_

_"That's because he's your son."_

_"Nice spin-off, but, no, really, he isn't."_

_"He travels a lot, high metabolism, I suppose. He'll be growing up really fast now, you know."_

_They were walking now, and he had shifted his position, groaning slightly. "Pikachu," he murmured._

_"He really loves Pokémon."_

_"Yes, he does. But he has to give them up."_

_"Switching sides, are we?"_

_"I'm agreeing."_

_"Hanako."_

_"What?"_

_"Can you get the door?"_

_"Oh. Okay. His room is just up the stairs. Careful not to bang his head."_

_"I know, dear. Can you get this door, too? Thanks."_

_His shoes had been slipped off and then he was set down gently on a bed. A blanket had been laid on him, and he thought he felt his mom kiss his cheek._

_"Good night, Pumpkin."_

_"Sleep well."_

In the morning, Ash had awoken to find himself in his bed, but he didn't give any thought to the dream voices until much later. He had been concerned over his impending "doom" and Pikachu. Now, lying on his bed, Ash thought he had been so immature. His dad was a pretty cool guy. They did things together, silly things. Once Ash got over being a pill, that is. For the first week or so Ash sat and sulked, pretending not to be interested in any of the attempts his father made. Most of the time his dad'd had to pull rank to get him to do something. Ash made a small smile at the way he had sat stubbornly in the car for over two hours while his father had gone into the fair grounds. He finally cracked, by at least getting out of the car, when his dad returned with some cotton candy and hot dogs. The way to his heart was probably through his stomach, Ash thought with a grin. Then they went on any ride, although of course _he_ hadn't suggested them, even though Ash wanted to. That had been a really stupid because his dad enjoyed forcing him on very demeaning rides in between the deadly-scary-god-I-could-have-died-let's-do-it-again ones. Ash remembered how hard it had been to pretend _not_ having fun when he _was_.

His father, of course, saw through his act, as he wasn't nearly as blind about such things as his mom. That didn't mean he was omni-seeing or whatever, though. That was Carmen's job. Ash figured that if Carmen ever found out that Pikachu was here, that would be the point when his dad would just be beginning to suspect.

He sighed, running his hand up Pikachu's ear. She was now asleep. Smiling slightly, he remembered when he had seen his other Pokémon when Brock and Misty came for a visit. They shouldn't have brought the Pokémon, though. It was one area this town would never budge on—he could remember listening to his father's side of the phone call when some of the residents had the nerve to call—and it was the second his dad wouldn't.

The first was grades and school. While his mom had been satisfied that he even did his homework on his training (yes, Ash to still do some kind of homework), his dad wanted A's, in everything. He groaned slightly. Half the classes he barely understood, although it was getting better the longer he stayed at it. His grades averaged at a B, which he thought was pretty good. But B's don't get you anywhere in the world, his father thought, so Ash had to do better. Ash hated those days after a test, waiting for the results in the mail. He'd usually sneaked out of the house the second he saw the school emblem on an envelope and hung around with Pikachu in the back part of the yard. His dad wouldn't go and hunt for him, no matter how upset he was. And then Ash would quickly sneak back into the house at sundown. First he went through the main entrance, but his father was usually sitting in a chair reading something and waiting for his son to go past. Then, to bypass that problem, Ash started to climb up to his window and pretended to be asleep when his father came up. That worked about three times, but, unfortunately, his dad wasn't an idiot. After hiding out a full day, Ash climbed up the wall and hefted himself up the sill. The window had been locked, which should have been his first clue something was up. But, being the dense idiot that he was, Ash tossed out his curiosity, took out his school ID card, undid the latch with much quiet swearing under his breath, and crawled in.

He had two saving graces. One, that Pikachu wasn't with him, it being a nice night and all. The other was that his father had waited until his feet were firmly planted on the floor before he spoke, because, if he hadn't, Ash would have probably fallen out of the window from surprise. After that there wasn't any more climbing through the window to avoid confrontation, because his dad usually waited for him in his room so Ash couldn't slip by.

Even still, with all his faults and beliefs about grades, Ash thought his dad was okay. Don't get him wrong, he liked his mom better. (It was probably because he could get away with just short of murder and cleaning his room under her care.) He just hoped the day never came when he'd have to choose between them.

Ash looked at his list, glad he hadn't turned off his lamp on his desk because it gave him reading light. When had the idea of running away entered his brain, anyway?

It must have came up when he saw his Pokémon again a few weeks before. (Ash figured Brock and Misty must think his father was horrible because of that argument they had heard, and of his outburst at hating it here.) They renewed that urge to go out and become the greatest. Oh, he really _wanted_ to be the best, but is that a really good reason to leave?

He sighed. Still debating on that one.

Reasons not to run away, top of the list, Mom and Dad. It'd really kill them, especially his mom, and Ash knew his parents would both blame his dad instead of him. But if wouldn't really be his dad's fault, but he'd be the scapegoat. The thought made Ash sick. He was not one to let someone else take the fall because of his actions.

Reason two, getting food, money, and shelter. Ash made a face. He had what, three hundred bucks saved up? That wouldn't last long at all, especially if something happened. And you could only pack so much food, although Ash figured he could forage. He had camped out too, but there was always Mom to bail him out if he needed it. She wouldn't be here now.

Reason three, having to hide. Okay, let's face it, if Ash disappeared, his dad would hire out the whole Police Force to find him, and they'd use the only Pokémon which could still perform in a battle, the Growlithes (and they were under lock and key), to find him. And those things are great at tracking. He'd have to disguise himself somehow too, to avoid someone recognizing him from the missing posters.

Reason four, having only Pikachu, no Pokédex. He needed identification to capture Pokémon, legally anyway, thanks to some new law, and Ash didn't have anyone who could give him a Pokédex. No one here did things with Pokémon Training. And then he still only had one Pokémon. Okay, he started out with just Pikachu, but it didn't seem right to continue his journey without the others.

Reason five, traveling alone. Almost ever since he started, Ash had always had someone to travel with, always. Misty, Brock, and Tracey had been with him, occasionally meeting up with Gary. He couldn't travel with other trainers in case they recognized him, and Ash wasn't sure if he could handle the solitude.

(Not actually a reason Ash wrote down but admitted that it would be a problem was the fact that he very easily got lost.)

Okay, reason to run away, to be a Pokémon Master. He really, really, _really_ wanted to be one. _Really!_

There wasn't much more than that.

Well, maybe there were other reasons that he couldn't think about. Ash always felt like it was a challenge when his father said trying to become a Pokémon Master was impossible. He could show him that it wasn't. Ash could also get away from that stupid school and all that homework. At that Ash made a face. And Ash figured he could make it out in the world. It wouldn't be that hard. He managed to travel through Johto, the Orange Islands, and the Indigo Leagues all right.

Carefully, Ash removed Pikachu from his chest and set her on his pillow. She didn't wake, and he smiled, giving her one last pat before standing up to walk to his bath. Debating about running away wasn't something you could write a list on, he decided as he started to rip it up. You had to have a feeling or one really, _really_ good reason. Once the pieces were small enough, Ash flushed the evidence down the toilet.

He'd have to decide one way or another, he sighed as he walked back towards the bed. He flicked off his lamp and laid down. Ash petted Pikachu again, looking at her peaceful face as she slept in the dim light. Ash smiled a bit, yawning, and started to close his eyes.

How important were Pokémon to him?

How important were his parents?

"I'll decided tomorrow," he murmured, before allowing himself to drift into the realm of unconsciousness.

*****

The thought was slowly pushed outside of Ash's mind over the months, and he didn't think of it often, except in those moments that he enviously read letters from his mom and friends, and sometimes after a round with his father. But the thought didn't linger any longer than a night, but, even still, there were steps Ash went through ever time he felt the impulse.

Obviously he'd have to do something about his appearance. Maybe he could dye his hair or something, make-up maybe. But that'd end up being a pain, and it'd wash out after a while.

He'd need money too, his money, not stealing. Ash really didn't want to sink to that level. Well, he knew his way around the computer, so it shouldn't be too hard to create a new account. As a laugh during one of the urges to leave, Ash had made one. But after he had made it, the screen blinking his new account, the laughter had died from his lips and he wondered why he had done that. Quickly, he exited out and tried to forget he ever did.

Slowly, bits of the pieces would fall into place, but Ash never took the dreaming seriously, not really. It would be crazy to run away, and he knew it. Yet Ash knew how he'd get out of town, which city he'd go to. True there were a few minor problems, like having no Pokédex and only Pikachu, but that just helped him remember that it was just a silly notion that would soon pass.

Still, on some days he'd sit outside with Pikachu in a tree and look at the wild Pokémon about, sometimes while they were causing trouble, he'd feel that quiet longing. And at those times, the urge never left, no matter how much he wanted it to.

*****

"I don't hear any practicing," his father teased, walking into the study, where Ash usually practiced because of the lighting and large windows to look out of.

Ash looked up from behind his stand and smiled innocently, cheeks full of a cheese sandwich he had made himself. Carmen was on personal leave for the next two weeks, so the two men had to fend for themselves. It slightly worried Ash that he was a better cook that his father was. At least _he_ knew how to work a toaster. He swallowed the sandwich, then took a gulp of his milk, pretty much emptying the large glass. "Working on it," Ash informed him, finishing the glass with another deep gulp, then wiped his upper lip with the back of his hand. He frowned when he saw that he had eaten up his entire meal and was still hungry.

"Be back in a moment," he said, leaping up and dashing out of the room. Then he doubled back, sticking his head in. "You want anything from the kitchen?"

He thought about it. "Juice?"

"Only have grape and orange. I finished off the apple this morning."

Mr. Ketchum made a face very similar to his son's. Apple was his favorite, as well as his son's it appeared. "Orange, then."

Ash nodded. "Anything else?"

"A sala—" He saw his son start to say something and stopped. "Just bring me whatever we have left, all right."

"I _think_ we have some liver left in the back," Ash smiled happily, dashing away.

Mr. Ketchum chuckled slightly as he sat down behind the desk. If Ash kept eating the way he'd been doing as of late, it meant going back to the store again. Jeez, he didn't know boys ate _that_ much, but at least there weren't any leftovers in the kitchen for very long. Shaking his head almost sadly, Mr. Ketchum opened his desk and withdrew his accounts.

Ash peered into the fridge, humming a little tune.

"Pikachu?"

"Wah—AH!" he yelped, surprised, hitting his head on shelf. Rubbing his head, Ash looked down to see his yellow friend smiling up at him.

"Pikachu, what are you doing down here?" he hissed.

She looked hurt, cringing. "Chu?"

"Dad's home. Remember, Carmen's on leave," Ash said quickly, looking around wildly, as if expecting his dad to come strolling in. "What are you doing in the house?"

"Pika chu ka ka pikachu pika pika, Pikapi," she complained.

"I know its cold and lonely outside," Ash said softly, opening the bottom shelf. "You want an apple? Last one." Pikachu took it. "We have some ketchup too. You can go and hang out in my room, all right?"

Pikachu nodded, taking the bottle from her trainer. "Pikachu chu?" she asked, setting down her apple and looking at him imploringly.

Ash looked at her sympathetically. "After I finish practicing, okay?"

She agreed. "Pika."

"Just be sure to take the back way up," he sighed, watching as Pikachu hefted up the ketchup bottle and apple, beginning her slow waddle back up the stairs.

"Pi," she replied, although a tad muffled because of her burden.

Ash shook his head sadly, following her with his eyes, then back to the important task of getting some food for himself. One thing about living with him mom was that Ash would eat almost _anything_, because she could really cook. Things always tasted better if there was a bit of that springy green stuff next to it.

Arms filled with snacks, Ash kicked the door shut and emptied his burden onto the counter, looking at it critically. He figured you could put almost anything between two slices of bread, but it was depressing when he thought of what his mom could have made with this. In either case, he pulled out the last couple slices of bread out of the breadbox and started to swamp them with mustard, then placed on the very last few slices of bologna.

He knew there was a bag of chips and cookies up on the top shelf, where Ken thought no one looked. Everyone pinched them and placed the empty bags back, but Ken never brought it up. Ash figured he just hid them at random, and then forgot about them, he had so many hidden. It was pretty good to open the glove compartment and pull out a bag of candy bars for breakfast. Ash leaped up and carefully reached over the decorative siding, pleased to hear the crinkled of the plastic bags.

"Sandwiches, chips, cookies . . ." he muttered, looking over the meal. "Vegetables, maybe." Lucky there were a few stacks of celery, and Ash got some peanut butter to eat with them. He also got out the container of grapes to eat as well.

Ash hummed as he poured his glass full of milk again, then the glass of juice for his dad. As a last minute idea, he checked the fridge for a soda. Sadly, Ash remembered that he must have finished off the case yesterday.

Never one for thinking about an easier way to do something, Ash started to try and pick everything up at once. By the time he to leave, he was gripping the chip and cookie bags with his teeth, holding the drinks against his body with his left arm while his hand held his sandwich, and with the arm was the peanut butter, celery, and grapes. Then Ash waddled out carefully, not much different than how Pikachu had left.

Thankfully the study wasn't that far from the kitchen, with no stairs to climb up. Once he reached the study doors, Ash pushed the doors open by walking backwards. He grinned feebly, teeth still locked on the bag seams, when his dad looked from his papers, an amused expression on his face.

"Wouldn't it have been easier just to bring the refrigerator in here?"

"Maybe," Ash agreed immediately, letting the forgotten bags fall to the floor. He stepped on the chips before he could stop himself, and the bag popped open. "Oops."

Mr. Ketchum left his papers to help his son, taking away the sandwiches, fruit, and celery. "Do we even have anything left?" he asked absently as he set them down.

Ash set down the glasses and peanut butter down, spilling a bit on the desk. He paid it no noticed, looking at his shirt, which was slightly damp from the liquids. "We have canned things."

"You could have used a tray, you know?" Mr. Ketchum teased lightly, picking up the dropped bags and watching his son examining his shirt.

The young boy blushed slightly, taking up his sandwich and looking at the papers his father had been working on. Columns of numbers—expenses, Ash figured—filled the paper and probably the next one under it as well. He chewed thoughtfully as he eyes strolled over the desk, suddenly spying a paper. A headline spoke of a Persian being destroyed for "clawing" a neighbor. Ash knew the Persian, and the report negated to mention that the Persian had been declawed.

"I thought you weren't supposed to eat when you practice," Mr. Ketchum said, eating a few chips, watching as his son read the article.

"I'm not actually playing yet," he countered with a grin, pushing away the paper. "And I didn't know they allowed greasy fingerprints on office papers?"

"I'm not working on them, am I?" Mr. Ketchum smiled back. He looked at his son critically. "Are you actually going to practice?"

Ash sighed, exasperated. "I _will_, but I'm hungry," he stated his case absently as he held up the peanut butter jar, trying to get some of the cream on the celery. Very true, he was always hungry, and any food in the house didn't have much of a chance, like the celery he finished.

Mr. Ketchum gave him a small smile as he sat back down, wiping up the spilled liquid with a tissue he had. "I can tell. Just try and get in ten minutes. Of playing," he added as his son finished his sandwich.

Rolling his eyes unceremoniously, Ash picked up his milk and went back to his stand, grabbing the cookies as he went. He sat down, taking another gulp of milk. "I need more—"

His father didn't even look up. "Just _practice_."

Ash harrumphed slightly as he set down the glass. He didn't want to eat the cookies without milk, so that meant he wasn't going to eat them right now. Damn.

He sighed and removed his flute from the stand, flexing his fingers over the keys. Ash _really_ didn't want to play the flute, but Z.P.S. wanted its students to have a very rounded schedule and the flute was the only instrument left that needed another player. Okay, so it wasn't that bad of an instrument, but Ash didn't think it suited his personality. (Where that terminology came from, Ash had no idea.) The flute was so . . .soft, reserved, quiet, and not to mention that he was the only guy who played one. (All right, so there were only two players on the flute, but that's not the point. Don't ponder on the details.) Okay, so he was being instrumentally sexist, but guys shouldn't play the flute, especially him. Why couldn't he play the drums? _That_ didn't look too hard. (Oh, hardy har.)

The flute wasn't that bad, he admitted off-handedly as he ran a quick chromatic scale for warm-up. And after _many_ lessons after school and on Sundays, his _only_ day free from school, he was finally up to the standard of the other students. He had even taken up the challenge of challenging Sasha, the other flutist, so he could be the best. (He was certainly going to be the best at _something_, even if he didn't like it.) It had been a real blow to her pride when he did beat her, and it had made Ash feel guilty that he had even challenged her. He was even willing to blow his part when she re-challenged him, but she never did, and Ash wasn't stupid—believe it or not—enough to tell her he'd let her be first. So now, ever time he sat down, Sasha looked at him contemptuously. She had been especially biting when it turned out for the Winter Concert that the first flute had an important solo.

Ash played the B-flat major scale, then its corresponding minor, melodic, and harmonic absently. His mom had come up to hear him play, and so they could spend the holidays together as a family, something Ash couldn't even remember doing. It had been a surprise for Ash on his father's part, and it had been a big surprise. Between hunting for his other shoe, tying his "noose" on, and making doubly sure he had his solo, and then worrying about totally blowing it in front of everybody, Ash felt he did not need any added stress. So when he had opened the door while balancing on one foot (he had been placing his once-missing-now-found shoe on), it had nearly tripled his stress seeing his mom standing there in a semi-formal dress. He couldn't blow it now, not with his mom listening in the audience.

Funny, during his Pokémon battles, (except before the first one at the Indigo League, Ash accepted,) he hadn't been that worried. Then the worry seemed to be making up for the lost time. Ash _did not_ want to make a fool of himself, and it didn't help that he always heard Misty's voice saying, "Too late for that." Sasha had been in some sort of twisted glee, sensing his nervousness and worry before they walked out onto the stage. In her mind, she probably figured Ash would bomb it, and the director, Professor Sinistra, would put her back as first flute. Yet, strangely enough, the second he had gotten up on stage, the worry had seemingly disappeared as he got focused. Apparently Ash's mind could only being worried about one thing at a time.

His mom had thought it was the most beautiful thing in the world, and, although he wouldn't admit it, Ash kind of liked the piece too. He knew it by heart by now, after so many hours of practicing it, so in reality he probably wouldn't have needed to bring his music. Anyway, after the concert, they had gone out to for supper. His dad had originally made reservations at some upscale restaurant, but after glancing at his wife and son's facial expressions looking just out the window, he had driven them to the local burger joint. The family had had a great laugh at all the looks the patrons of the restaurant gave them, coming in wearing their overly formal clothes for a double cheeseburger, shake, and fries, and then when the family had played in the playground.

Ash flew over his practice, not exactly focused. He actually didn't have any new music yet, as they had just finished their concert, but his father wanted him to _try_ and practice daily. Ash did it to humor him for now, although he actually would practice with more seriousness. For now, Ash settled with going over his scales and running through chorales.

Satisfied that he had at least taken the instrument out and played a few tunes, Ash quickly, but efficiently, cleaned the instrument and placed it back in its case. He left the stuff in the study, knowing that he had the week off and wouldn't need it for school. Mr. Ketchum smiled briefly, looking up, as Ash strolled out with the precious bag of cookies.

After making an emergency trip to get more milk (Ash despondently noticed that they were now out after he filled his glass halfway), Ash rushed up the stairs and to his room. "Hey, Pikachu," he called as he shut the door, looking around the room for his yellow friend.

"Chu, Pikapi!" she smiled, coming out from under his covers where she had been hiding.

Ash efficiently plopped down next to her, opening the bag once his stomach was on the material. "Want one?" he smiled. Pikachu took one, then set out to cover it with ketchup. Ash made a face. "No offense, but yuck. Ketchup on chocolate chip?" He shuddered, ducking his cookie in the milk with his fingertips.

"Chu," she replied, chewing on the creation. "Pikachu ka chu chu pika pikachu ka pikachu?"

"Just a reading assignment," Ash replied, his mouth full of cookie. Pikachu looked at him skeptically. "And a couple problems for math." She tilted her ear, and Ash blew his bangs out of his eyes in defeat. "_And_ an essay. Happy?"

Pikachu nodded, pleased. Ash needed a bit of prodding when he had over one day to complete an assignment, and it really was Pikachu that made him get the assignments done right away instead of waiting for the last minute. "Ka chu pikachu, Pikapi."

"Do you even know the meaning of 'vacation'?" Ash sighed rolling over onto his back to grab the book that rested on his dresser. His thumb searched for the bookmark. "I have plenty of time."

"Pikapi," she scolded good-naturedly.

"Well, I do," he grumbled rolling back onto his stomach, although he too was smiling. Digging out another cookie, his eyes strolled over the words. Pikachu crawled under his arm and rested under his chin, looking at the book as well. Occasionally one of them would grab a cookie to chew on.

The sounds and doings around the house went over their heads, although Pikachu removed herself from under Ash's chin to sit by the window and watch the ParriKeet, harmless tiny bird Pokémon that the city also didn't hate as much as other Pokémon, mostly because they were out-of-the-way, literally. Of course, Ash had buried quite a few that had been shot down by citizens. The birds liked to fly around Ash's window, for he usually had a tray of fruit for them on the sill.

It was the knocking at Ash's door that snapped them both out of it. Ash jerked his head up from the book and quickly threw a blanket over Pikachu. "Yeah?" he called trying to sound calm as he sat up, placing himself in front of the slightly shaking lump that was Pikachu.

Mr. Ketchum opened the door and stuck his head in. A smile passed over his face, seeing Ash with book in his hands. "Actually doing your homework? I figured you'd wait for the last day."

Ash forced a grin, feeling Pikachu dig into his back. "What's up?"

His father sighed. "I'm going to have to be out all tomorrow, won't get back until late. You gonna be all right?"

"Course, no problem," Ash smiled, seeing that his father was truly apologetic about it. His father had originally planned to work at home while Carmen was on leave and Ash was on vacation.

"That's good. I'll let you get back to your book."

The door was shut, and Pikachu carefully crawled out for under the blanket. "Pikachu," she sighed in relief.

Ash smiled at her as he petted the top of her head reassuringly. "Tell me about it, Pikachu."

*****

"Pikapi!"

Ash groaned, rolling over sleepily. "It's too early, Pikachu," he muttered, opening his eyes a sliver to see that it was still dark outside his window.

Pikachu leaped on his chest heavily, causing him to exhale a deep breath of air. "Pikachu!" she smiled. Ash groaned, grabbing a pillow to cover his head and escape her gaze, and Pikachu shook her head disapprovingly. She didn't shock him though, mostly because she had more or less grown out of that method of getting what she wanted. (Also, if he yelled, it might draw the attention of the other members of the household.) Instead, she leaped off him and turned on his radio.

He pressed the pillow tighter to his head, ignoring the fact that he could barely breathe. In Ash's mind, if he didn't have to get up before the crack of noon he wasn't going to. This _was_ his vacation, damn it, although in the end he did removed the pillow from his face. "By Mew, Pikachu," he sighed, keeping his eyes closed, listening to the radio jockey spew out the day's random news.

There are moments in a person's life where something simple touches them in a way they can't understand and compels them to do something that they otherwise wouldn't otherwise realistically consider. (That's how a lot of people get married.) Sometimes it's another person's actions, a word spoken, a phrase in a book, the very mood of a room, something. But all that is known is that that's the point—so it is believed by the person—when the person's life chooses the path that it will travel down for the rest of the life.

In truth, it was really coincidental that Pikachu turned the radio on at the exact second on the exact station that the song was on and just beginning.

_In the morning when you wake up  
Open your eyes to a new day,  
Look around at the gifts you've got.  
You've been so lucky along the way._

_Time to finish what you've begun,  
Have the faith, you're the one.  
Throw your hat high—up to the sun_

_Now you face the greatest test  
Use the lessons that you've learned  
Your goal is to be the best  
And claim the prize that you've earned_

_Ever since you were a young man,  
You've kept your eye on the master plan  
To reach for the top—and touch the sky_

_It's your destiny  
To spread your wings and fly_

_You can do it if you really try  
You can do it if you really try  
Spread your wings and learn to fly  
You can do it if you really, really try_

_Keep movin' forward to stay alive  
Trust your heart and you'll survive  
Follow your dreams, never let them die_

_It's your destiny  
To spread your wings and fly._

_You can do it if you really try  
You can do it if you really try  
Spread your wings and learn to fly  
You can do it if you really, really try_

As the song went into the flourish ending, Ash blinked and bit his lip slightly, clicking the radio off. Carefully, he pushed himself up and looked out the window. Now he could see a trace of the first ray of light etching over the horizon. How many Pokémon are out past that horizon?

_No, don't think that way_, Ash ordered abruptly, looking away from the window towards his room "Don't even think about it," Ash muttered.

"Pikachu?" Pikachu asked, setting herself right in front of him and tilting her ear.

He jumped out of the bed and started to pace, mind buzzing. Today would be prefect. His dad was out all day, Carmen was on leave, and Ken was . . .was somewhere. Never been a better opportunity.

"This is crazy," Ash muttered, although the barely contained excitement was in his voice.

"Pikapi?" the mouse asked, slightly worried.

Ash whirled around, a smile on his face. "Let's do it, Pikachu, huh?"

She jumped back, startled. "Chu?" she asked tentatively.

He leaned against the bed. "We can do it, don't you think? It wouldn't be that hard. I mean, I think I've got most of the details worked out."

"Pika ka pikachu?" she demanded, not being a psychic Pokémon.

"Let's leave!" Ash laughed, finding humor that she didn't know what he was talking about.

"_Pikapi_!" she yelled in surprise. She looked at Ash's grin with wide eyes, an excitement in them that she hadn't seen in a long time. Yet, she couldn't let him go off. She couldn't. She'd humor him for a while, but Ash wouldn't actually leave.

He wouldn't. Pikachu was so sure of it.

_**POKÉDEX**_

ParriKeet—the Song Pokémon:

The unevolved form of Parrette, ParriKeet is a friendly and cheery bird that sings a soothing melody to travelers. For homes that have a ParriKeet as a pet, be warned that they can imitate any speech they hear on a regular basis, although they are not conscious, so it is believed, of what they are saying. [return]

Parrette—the Plumed Pokémon:

The evolved form of ParriKeet, Parrette is large and seemingly entirely made of feathers. All that is seen is the beak and feet. It sings quite beautifully and make wonderful pets, provided you don't mind all the feathers and singing at the unknown hour of 5:30 am. More apt to perch than to fly, this bird spends hours (it has to) preening itself. If it gets soaked, it is impossible for the bird to fly.


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter Three: Tunnels

Pikachu crouched in the pack as Ash jumped off the bus, shaking. "Pikachu," she moaned.

"It's all right, Pikachu," he sighed, looking around the bus stop and closing his jacket against the chilly wind. Cornflower Strait looked like a nice city, and he started to walk around aimlessly through the half-slush, stretching his legs. Riding a bus for over eight hours was not very fun, and Ash silently vowed never to do it again.

Walking down the street, Ash caught a glimpse of himself in the windows. Carefully he ran his hand through his hair. It was only slightly lighter than it had been before the bleaching, but it wasn't the deep black that it once had been, for sure. He'd have to bleach it again later on to get it the pale yellow-white he wanted.

"Pikachu pika chu pikachu ka," Pikachu complained from inside his pack.

"Oh, all right Pikachu," Ash grinned, stepping into a side alley. He removed his pack and opened the lid, allowing his friend to get some of the refreshingly cold air. "Better?"

Pikachu looked at him crossly. She was not pleased, spending the whole ride in the pack. "Ka," she snapped, cheeks emitting electric bolts.

"Hey, easy," Ash coaxed. "Just calm down. No more bus rides, okay, but you gotta still stay in the pack until we get out of the city, unless you want to get chased out."

She sighed, shaking her head no.

"You warm enough?" he asked, his mind shifting towards Pikachu's well being. It had to be winter, didn't it?

"Pika," Pikachu said, dropping back into the pack heavily.

"That's good," Ash smiled sincerely. "Look, I'll go get us something to eat, and then head out to the country. There's bound to a Pokémon professor around that can give me a Pokédex, right?" It was the one of the few remaining flaws in his plan.

Pikachu didn't have the heart to tell him probably not. She just smiled up at him, a bit pitifully, but Ash took it as encouragement.

"Don't worry. We'll be fine." Ash suddenly dug into his pocket. "Here, I got some peanuts left from the bus ride. I know you're probably starving. I know I am." He grinned like a jack-o-lantern. "Eat up."

Pikachu rolled her eyes as she took the unopened package. (_Peanuts left, ha!_ she thought.) "Pikapi." Carefully, she withdrew a peanut and held it up for him. Ash shook his head.

"You need it more than I do." He scratched her ear. "I'll leave the top open. If you get cold, let me know." With one last grin, Ash heft up the pack and put it on his shoulders. Pikachu felt him sigh through the pack.

"We'll be okay. Promise."

*****

Ash curled up next to the building, clutching the small bag. How was he supposed to know you needed a reservation to get into half these hotels? He rolled his eyes slightly, spirits only slightly dampened. "Hey, Pikachu, hungry?" he asked the bag next to him.

"Pika!" she smiled, emerging.

He grinned as he opened the bag and put his hand in. "Good. I got us some sandwiches." A steaming sandwich was withdrawn, and Ash handed it over to Pikachu. Then he withdrew his own and started to eat.

"We have to be careful not to spend all our money on store food," he stated between bites. "Actually, it was probably a good thing we couldn't get a room." Ash was quiet for a moment. "You know, Pikachu, I think we're spoiled. Too much good food and soft beds." He chuckled.

Pikachu looked hopefully at him, wondering if he was having second thoughts. He didn't continue, chewing thoughtfully on his sandwich, and Pikachu shook her head sadly.

After finishing his meager meal, Ash stretched out his arms and yawned, his eyes going up to the skies. "You know, you can see the stars in Ziganka at night." Little clouds were created from his breathing.

"Pi," Pikachu agreed, leaping onto his lap and snuggling close.

Ash smiled down at her, petting her head. "Well, let's get some sleep. Tomorrow we head out." Pikachu nodded, liking the feel of his hand on her head and ears while she drifted off to sleep.

Again Ash smiled, eyes studying her face and feeling her gentle heartbeat against his chest. True, he was having second thoughts, but that couldn't stop him now. He had crossed the Rubicon, and there was no going back. It would be stupid to. Ash made a face. Well, it wasn't exactly smart to write his mom before he left telling her everything, but Ash knew his dad wouldn't find out until tomorrow morning, when he came to wake Ash up. Actually, Ash started to wonder why he had even written that letter. Wouldn't he want to have as much time as possible before the police were contacted? Why had he?

He started a slow pondering of this thought, actually curious. Well, he had done it on a whim, for sure. And the letter had said absolutely diddle, just that he was leaving and he'd be all right, love Ash. It didn't even say why he had left. Ash shook his head, once again surprised that the strands that fell over his eyes were light.

_Oh well, what's done is done_, he thought dully, still petting Pikachu. He had expected a lot more of a fight from her to not leave, and it slightly touched Ash that she trusted him. If she had put up a fight about leaving, he wouldn't have left. Ash wouldn't have wanted to put her though something she didn't want to, and he certainly wouldn't have left her behind. Ash's eyes shone fondly down at her, and he frowned slightly to see that she was shivering. Carefully he shifted her so he could zip her up in his jacket. Pleased, he started to close his eyes and prepare to sleep.

*****

It wouldn't be correct to say he was sleeping when something woke up. Ash had been listening to the traffic and the unfamiliar noises of the city when he heard a silent noise coming down the alley towards him. He didn't need to have his eyes open to know that the person stopped near him and started to reach for his pack.

He lashed out his hand, catching the person by the wrist. "That's mine."

The figure in shadows leaped back, slightly slipping on the slush, surprised that Ash was still awake. It had been watching him for some time and figured that the boy finally had drifted into unconsciousness. Its wrist was free from Ash by the movement back, and quickly it kicked up the pack and ran.

"Hey, come back!" Ash yelled, surprised at the quickness the person had. He leaped up, also slipping wildly on the half-snow city creation, and started to run.

The figure looked back to see Ash close. With grim determination, it leaped up onto a dumpster and over a wall, then continued to run. When it glanced back, it was surprised to see that the boy was still on its tail. In started to knock down garbage cans, hoping that that would slip the kid up. Normally the figure didn't have this much trouble with a simple pickpocket.

Ash grunted as he leaped over the cans, intent on getting his bag back. His had his clothes and food in there, as well as his money.

"Pikapi!" Pikachu complained, sticking her head out.

"Our stuff got stolen, Pikachu!" Ash hissed between leaps, climbing over another fence and unto the dumpster. He could se the figure up ahead, and could tell that the gap between them was shortening.

"Ka!" Pikachu snapped, bolts escaping her cheeks.

"Well, don't worry, we'll catch him," Ash promised, running faster.

*****

_Damn, damn, damn_, the figure thought, figuring out that it had taken a wrong turn somewhere along the line. It was not good on pressure, and the boy was giving it a lot. No one chased it before, mainly because they never knew that something was stolen from them. Also, this boy was good at getting past all the obstacles the thief left.

_Well, why not just drop the pack?_ the figure reasoned. The boy would probably stop chasing it. The thief looked back. _Probably not_.

Actually, the boy wasn't yelling for the police or anything, which was a good thing. He probably just wanted his pack back. The thief ran and then doubled back to run down the side alley. _Finally!_

*****

Ash caught the figure dashing off into the new alleyway, and he followed. "He's not going to get away from us, right, Pikachu?"

"Pi," Pikachu agreed wearily.

They entered the alley, and Ash skidded to a halt. It didn't stop him from running into the wall.

"Dead end," he muttered rubbing his face, then quickly looked down his jacket. "You okay, Pikachu?"

"Ka," she replied weakly, eyes wavering.

"Sorry," Ash smiled sheepishly, then looked around the alley. There was no fire escapes or doors, no way to scale this wall. He looked around in the dim lighting. He couldn't even hear any footsteps. "He got a—"

"Pikapi!" Pikachu said, sticking her head out and sniffing the air. Her night vision was better that his, and she could see (and smell the scent of the thief who had gone down) the manhole cover.

Ash squinted, then made a face. "Aw, man! The sewers?"

"Pika!"

Even with his reluctance, Ash made his way over to the cover, and wasn't that surprised to see that it was slightly open. Using all his strength—_damn, these things are __**heavy**_!—he rolled the cover over and started down the hole.

He was surprised that it didn't smell like a normal sewer. Although it was dark, Ash could tell that there wasn't any slime on the floor, and, when his hand touched the wall, there was none on the walls. "Which way, Pikachu?"

Pikachu sniffed the air, trying to get past the slight sewer smell. (Just because Ash couldn't smell the sewer didn't mean she couldn't.)

"Chu, Pikapi," she stated in a positive tone, telling him to go right.

They started to walk in the darkness, Pikachu's ears perked for any sound. Ash walked carefully, keeping a hand against the wall. There weren't any outlets from this dark path. He didn't doubt Pikachu's call, mainly because the thought didn't cross his mind that she could be wrong.

Slowly, a light started to flicker into their eyes, growing gradually brighter as they continued. At a point the light glowed brightly like it would outside, and the two could see that the sewer wasn't a sewer, but a hall. It was clean, and along the walls electric lamps shone brightly. The stone floor had changed into steel.

"Pika," Pikachu muttered in awe.

"Tell me about it," Ash agreed, running a finger over the carved patterns on the stone as he walked.

"Pikachu ka!" Pikachu said excitably. Ash looked up to see a group of walking their way, chatting freely in some language Ash couldn't understand. They paid Ash no mind as they passed, and Ash released his breath.

"Come on, Pikachu. Let's find my pack, and we can get out of here," he muttered. Pikachu nodded her agreement, and they continued on.

Now the halls seemed to separate from the main one, going off in a hundred different directions. And, with each passed hall, people mingled out. Some gave Ash a stare or two, but most, like the group of men, ignored him. Using Pikachu's nose, they navigated through the halls. Most of the occupants were children, younger or as old as him, Ash noticed, although he did see a few adults here and there. The people here looked tough and ready for anything, although the eyes that fell on him were kind.

"Pikachu!" Pikachu hissed, pointing down a hall from inside Ash's jacket. She had been cowering inside, hoping that no one would see her. Ash nodded and headed down. After passing a few rooms, Ash stopped.

Inside the room was a group of people surrounding another lime green-haired person. They seemed to be listening to the person rattle on.

". . . But I lost him. He didn't even have a chance, the idiot."

"Our top lit' thief," cooed a soft voice.

"Let's see what you got, kid," another voice said.

"Right."

The group parted momentarily, and Ash saw the familiar brown-grey fabric. "Hey, that's mine!" he yelled, jumping to the room. Suddenly as the eyes were on him, including the green-haired thief. "So hand it over!"

The eyes shifted towards the young thief, who Ash reckoned was about his age or younger, and a girl. She smiled weakly. "Well, what do you know?" she chuckled forcefully.

"Lost him, huh?" sneered a boy, a tall red-head.

Ash actually didn't care for what was going on, stomping in and grabbing the pack from her. "Thank you."

"Hey, I stole it fair and square!" she snapped, still having a grip on it.

"You don't steal fair and square!" Ash retorted, tugging harder.

"How'd you get down here?" demanded another man, grabbing Ash's shoulder to wrench him away.

Ash tried to get away from the grip. "Followed her."

"He couldn't have!" the girl exclaimed. "There's no way he could have seen the entrance in the dark."

"Then how'd he get down here?" inquired the redhead.

"Umm . . ."

A white-haired girl with brilliant green eyes shook her head sadly. "Let him go, Craig. He can't get out anyway."

The man holding Ash, Craig, let go. "How'd you get down here and find the entrance, kid?" Craig growled.

"I _looked_," Ash responded lowly. "And if you give me my pack, I'll be on my way."

The red-haired man looked down at Ash. "You're pretty mouthy for a kid," he said absently. "Well, Shamin?"

The girl looked down and tossed over the pack over to Ash. "He shouldn't have been able to find the entrance," she muttered.

"But he did. I have to wonder if you're losing your touch," Craig sneered.

Shamin's cheeks flushed angrily. "Hey, I tried to lose him! I thought I did."

"You thought wrong."

The white-haired girl—she looked about 18—placed a hand gently on Shamin's shoulder. "Don't worry 'bout it. We all slip once."

Ash looked at the group, who were suddenly all looking at him. "Well, I'll just be leaving," he smiled bravely, backing up.

"Maybe," the red-haired man smiled deviously, stepping over to shut the door. "What's your name?"

"What's yours?"

"Johnny."

Ash nodded, extending a hand. "Nice to meet you, Johnny." Johnny looked at it coldly, and Ash slowly put his hand back down. "I'm . . . Shan." His mind forced the name out of his lips. "I guess I'll be on my way. Good night."

"Listen, Shan, we don't let people just come and go," Johnny stated, leaning fully on the door.

Ash crossed his arms over his chest. He could feel Pikachu ready to release a thunderbolt at his notice. "So what do you plan to do? Hold me prisoner?"

"In a sense, yes, until we know you can be trusted."

"Oh, Johnny," sighed the still unnamed female. "He's just some kid." Her green eyes went over Ash, critiquing him. "Jeez, he ain't gonna go to the cops. Hell, probably don't even know how to get there."

"Miriam, you are too trusting."

"Better than bein' a suspicious bastard," she smiled. Shamin giggled.

Ash stood ready for anything, gripping his backpack. "Take him to one of the rooms, Craig,"

"Right, Johnny." Craig took a step forward as Ash whirled. "Come on, kid." It was clear that Craig was taking some kind of twisted pleasure in all this as he stepped froward.

"Sorry, but no. And I seriously suggest you don't come any closer, otherwise the results could be shocking." He grinned at the pun.

Craig laughed, as did Johnny. Shamin looked ready to as well, but Miriam stopped the laugh with a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Never underestimate the ability of someone that can track _ya_," she whispered.

"Let's see what you got, kid." Craig leaped, but Ash jumped nimbly aside. Years of traveling and being chased by Team Rocket taught him never to use Pikachu too soon, although he could tell she was ready. The electricity she had built up was seeping into him, making his hair stand slightly on end.

"You can't get out, just so you know. Not unless you got some ace in the hole," Johnny drawled, enjoying the show. Ash leaped up onto a wooden table, just as Craig grabbed his ankle and prepared to trip him up.

"NOW!" Ash yelled opening his jacket to free Pikachu.

"Pikaaaa-CHUU!" the tiny mouse yelled as it leaped away, filling the room with her thunderbolts. They seeped right into the steel floor and into the people standing on. Ash, on the wooden table, was relatively safe.

"AHH!" they all yelled simultaneously in pain, then fell to the floor smoking.

"Come on, Pikachu!" Ash laughed grimly, jumping down and rolling Johnny aside to open the door. "Let's get out of here."

"Pika!" she agreed as they ran down the hall. People literally jumped aside when they saw the tiny mouse running next to her owner. Ash had forgotten about the fear of Pokémon that people had here. Pikachu fueled that fear by allowing thunderbolts to encircle her body.

"Stop them!" Johnny yelled, recovering first from the shock first.

"Pikachu! Get on my back," Ash ordered quickly, knowing Pikachu had better aim the higher she was up. Pikachu immediately complied.

"Call me crazy, Pikachu, but this isn't exactly how I planned it'd go," he muttered looking over his shoulder, quickly changing direction as a group of the braver kids ran towards him. "Not like I had a plan."

He must have been running around for a good ten minutes. If anyone ever got too close, Pikachu always managed to scare them off with a teasing thunderbolt. The two had had to double back more than once though, and it was safe to say that Ash was, unsurprisingly, lost. Suddenly he tripped, for someone had stuck a booted foot out into the hall. Pikachu flew head, then rolled a bit. "Pikapi," she called, running back over to him.

Ash pushed himself up and turned to face the tripper, ready for anything. The familiar white hair appeared in the doorway. "Kid, ya ain't got a chance," Miriam smiled, gripping him by the front of his shirt and yanking him in. Pikachu barely made it in as the door slammed shut.

"What are you doing?" Ash demanded hotly, stepping back. He had heard the door lock.

"Pika!" Pikachu added, cheeks able to light a city.

"Keep yar little rodent at bay, kid," Miriam ordered, also stepping back. She patted her hair, and Ash thought it seemed to have a static problem. "I know these tunnels like the back of my hand."

"I'm not being some prisoner," Ash snapped.

She shook her head sadly. "Ya already are." Then she took another step back a disappeared on the teleport pad.

"Hey!" Ash yelled. "Let me out of here! Let me out!"

*****

Ash frowned at the ceiling as he laid on the cot that had been the room, his hands under his head. Pikachu rested next to him. Every once and awhile some jerk of a kid would bang on the door, but that hadn't happened for a while now, mostly because every time someone did Ash had Pikachu release a mild Thundershock. He had given up yelling hours ago, (he had a watch on, so he knew the time,) and now he merely looked up at the ceiling at the now familiar cracks.

He couldn't take it. He was supposed to heading out to be a Master or _something_, not stuck as some prisoner. Savagely, Ash sat up and grabbed his bag. Life sucked. Sucked. Sucked. _Sucked_. Pikachu looked at him with her brown eyes, knowing that he was getting cabin fever major.

"Pikapi," she cooed, sitting up and watching him dig. She knew he only grabbed the bag for something to do.

"This is so stupid, Pikachu," Ash hissed, shuffling aimlessly. Then he threw the pack against the opposite wall. "Stupid!" He placed his elbows on his knees and held the sides of his face.

Shaking her head, Pikachu jumped off the bed and went over to the traveling pack, also digging inside it. Ash had packed extra sets of clothes, some papers and envelopes, a sleeping bag, few packets of food, and money. Pikachu nosed the sleeping bag out, because she too had packed something for just such an occasion. Ash watched glumly, although he was slightly interested, as she unrolled the bag with her nose and scampered inside. She appeared a moment later holding a case.

"What do you got there?" Ash asked, genuinely curious. Pikachu leaped up next to him and handed over the case. He opened it, already knowing what it was. "My _flute? _You brought my _flute_?"

"Pika!" she nodded, patting his arm. She pointed at the shiny instrument. "Chu pikachu ka, Pikapi!"

Her trainer looked at her crossly, but under her gaze crumpled and started to put the instrument together. "I can't believe you brought this," he muttered under his breath. "Maybe we can hock it for some extra cash."

Pikachu _knew_ he wouldn't. She knew it more than she knew he wouldn't run away, she meant. His father had given him the instrument, and Ash would sooner die than give it up, even if he did "hate" it. "Chu ka pikachu!" she urged as he slowly put it together.

A glimmer of a smile crossed his lips, and he brought the instrument up to his lips. Slowly, he blew, eyes closed, and played his solo, the only thing he could recall at the moment. He had started out all by himself, and Ash could almost hear when the violins and percussion would come it, when the violins and brass accompanied or challenged him with the sole possession of the melody. The whole orchestra was in his mind from the memory.

As the last note died away, Ash's eyes shot open when he heard clapping, quiet clapping, from outside his door.

"That was beautiful."

He was quiet for a moment, then finally responded. "Thank you. What do you want?"

"I'm on guard duty thanks to you," the voice said after a moment. "Remember me?"

"The one who took my pack, right? Serves you right." Ash didn't hide the bitterness.

"Hey, if you didn't run after me!"

"If you hadn't taken my pack!"

"If you—what's the point!" She was quiet for a moment. "What's your name again?"

Ash had to stop himself from saying his true name. "Shan."

"I'm Shamin. Kinda cool."

"What?"

"Our names."

He didn't click on. "What about them?"

Shamin sighed. "Forget it. So you play the flute?"

"Duh."

"Hey, I wouldn't be so cocky, Mr. Prisoner!" she snapped. "I was just gonna say you're pretty good."

Ash blushed slightly, kind of happy with the compliment, but didn't let on. "I played at school."

"I play the guitar, you know?"

"No, I didn't."

"You _are_ pretty mouthy."

He snorted. "Well you'd be too if you were stuck behind the door. I didn't ask to be here. I'm supposed to be training!"

"What? That little rodent of yours?" Shamin laughed.

"Her name is Pikachu!" Ash yelled hotly.

"Pikachu!"

"They're dangerous, ya know? Pokémon, I mean."

Ash growled slightly. "Shows how much you know," he muttered. "Just go away."

"What were you doing sleeping on the streets?"

"Does it matter to you?" Ash snapped hotly. "Go guard someone else. No way I can break out of here anyway."

Shamin was quiet on the other side of the door, so quiet that Ash figured she had left. He shook his head and fingered the flute, looking hard at Pikachu. "Well, this is a fine mess I've landed us into, huh?"

Pikachu smiled. "Chu chu pikachu!" She twirled around.

Ash looked at her a moment, confused, then laughed. "Gotcha. Ready?" She nodded happily, jumping to the ground.

"Pi. Ka. Pi . . . ka . . . chu!" she laughed, and Ash immediately went into a rapid finger piece that sounded a lot like an Irish jig. Pikachu started to dance and leap around playfully. Ash smiled as he played, trying to time his slurs and staccatos to her movements.

They both were nearly immune to the sudden entrance of a guitar, but they could hear the added notes. Both players had no idea as to what or how the other was playing, and Ash struggled to ignore Shamin, who, in his opinion, couldn't count at all. It seriously bothered him, but to quit playing to tell her would mean he'd have to actually _talk_ to the girl.

He didn't want to talk to her at all.

*****

"Well, kid, ya wanna come out?" Miriam smiled, leaning against the door.

"Do I actually get a choice?" Ash snapped.

"Well, say I were to unlock the door and walk away." She looked at her nails, waiting for his response. He gave her none. "Well?" He still remained silent.

"Ya know, I heard ya and Shamin playing last night. Ya're pretty good, especially when she's just learnin' and can't hold a beat to save her life." Miriam heard a quiet grunt of agreement, but nothing came with words. "So where ya from?" Again no answer. "Ya know, conversation works two ways."

"I thought you were going to unlock the door and walk away!"

Miriam sighed, shaking her head sadly. "I did say that, huh?"

"Yeah, you did. So?"

"Do ya even know where ya are?"

Ash looked at the door savagely. "In a little room being held prisoner."

"Well, yeah, I suppose, if ya want to get technical," she admitted. "Look, these tunnels are for runaways and such. We don't need any trouble from no police."

He snorted. "I didn't plan on going to the police, all right. I just want to head out of town, so you going to unlock that door or what?"

"Ya really don't let go of an idea, do ya? Look, we had to make sure."

"Of what?!" Ash questioned. "Keeping me in here did absolutely nothing for you. You might as well have added another missing person to the wall." _Of course, you would probably be a few hours too late_.

Miriam nodded her head, agreeing with the kid, but she wasn't fool enough to go up against the others. Damn dictatorship was getting a footing around here.

"Probably. So ya're heading out for trainin' or whatever? In Winter? Blondie, no offense, but _that's_ stupid. It's cold out there, and trust me on this. I suggest ya hang around until Spring. Better travelin'."

"Humph."

"I ain't gonna ask ya any personal questions. No one hear really likes that," she continued. "Of course, no one here really likes your little rodent."

"Pikachu stays with me," Ash growled.

Miriam smiled. "No one cares what anyone else cares, kid. Not here. We only live and do a few odd jobs for rent. Really, ya're lucky Shamin picked ya for stealing from. Ya'd have died out there eventually.

"So what ya goin' do?"

He was quiet on the other side of the door. "Do I really have a choice in my answer?"

"Always a choice, just not always the right one," she chirped smugly. "You'd be a valuable asset to the place. Ya even managed to follow Shamin, and she's one of the best kids I trained. Ya got potential, and spunk."

Ash closed his eyes. It was the only way he was probably going to get out of this room. "I'll stay until Spring," he gritted darkly.

"Well, we'll see on that," Miriam laughed, opening the door.

"I will," Ash stated, standing up from the bed. Pikachu was on his shoulder.

She shook her head sadly. "Everyone says that, Blondie, but no one leaves. We become like family."

He made a cruel smile. "I'll be willing to bet most of them _left_ their families."

Miriam blinked in surprise, but recovered quickly. "We don't question anyone who comes here," she stated.

"Because they won't answer, will they?" Ash had picked up a lot from his time with his father. One thing was to read between the lines.

Miriam forced out a cheery laugh and extended her hand. "Welcome to the Tunnels, Blondie. I can see ya're gonna fit right in."

Ash took her hand grimly.


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter Four: **Battling a Rocket

"You're hopeless," Shamin sighed as they sat on the curb.

Ash shrugged. "I'm not a thief."

"Hey, it's either them or us, okay?" Shamin snapped, hating his blasted morality. "Look." She waved her hand at the pedestrians. "I can see their wallets! I mean, if they're going to show it off, then that means they have enough." Ash looked at her disapprovingly. "You have too much of a conscious."

"And you don't have enough," Ash retorted, stretching out his legs. "This is pathetic."

"No, Shan, you're pathetic!" Ash didn't even respond to her remark. Shamin huffed and blew the segment of lime green hair the resided over her right eye away. Her hair was only a little past her shoulders and very wild. "Look, you wait here and _I'll_ get some cash." Again Ash looked at her, but didn't say anything. He had grown past that. Avoiding his gaze, Shamin took off after a potential candidate.

Ash sighed, looking at his shoes. Shamin was annoying in her views of the world. As far as she was concerned any money that wasn't hers should be hers, and she was set on forcing her views onto him. Even Miriam gave up after Ash had found a lost wallet with over a hundred bucks in it and had taken it to the police station. After that, Miriam had made sure he didn't go out on his own—not that he could—in case he did something "stupid" like that again.

He remembered his first few weeks in the Tunnels, the collective name of the network of tunnels, both sewer and otherwise, that ran under most of the southwestern edge of the city. Johnny, one of the more vocal members of a committee of half-assed leaders, had claimed that it was a rule that no newcomer could be left alone or allowed to travel up-top. Ash thought he just made up the rule just to irk him, but it didn't matter because everyone else followed it. No one would ever let him up the manholes, even with their fear of Pikachu. Ash had received more than one nose job because of his repeated attempts, and Pikachu could really learn to hate anything that dealt with rubber. While she was able to get out, Ash never could, and she would never leave him.

Part of Ash wondered why they bothered to keep such measures for him to remain here, not that he totally minded. The Tunnels did provide a sort of quaint home until the weather warmed up, but that was just it. He was going to take off in the Spring. Miriam even said so, although Ash had to admit that while Miriam did have weight on some things, because of how long she had been here, the Tunnels were run by (quote unquote) pea-brained men. Ash never bothered to question anyone, because the only way to get answers was to ask the right person, but he usually wondered.

It was each person's responsibility to get his or her own money, which was usually by stealing it. True, Ash could have used the money, but the means didn't justify the end to him. Even still, Miriam dragged him around, because of how he impressed her with tracking Shamin, to learn the art of the trade, and he usually went topside because of a lack of anything better to do. Although, of course, he was on the proverbial leash, as almost everyone who was up-top watched him.

Of course, there were other ways of getting cash, and honestly too. Cornflower thrived on street entertainment, although cops insisted upon breaking up loiters. If you could play any instrument decently (or pityingly pathetic) patrons of the sidewalk usually threw you a few bucks and listened or told you to get lost, depending on your talent and their tolerance. The money was usually split fairly. That is to say, whoever was higher up in the social scale got the most, if not all, of the money. Ash was lucky if he got a dollar to his name if he ended up "volunteered" with the wrong troupe of four or so. Everyone knew he had skill on the flute—meaning he could actually play—so he was a worthwhile investment in that area. Of course, things would have always gone better if they could have practiced, because then it wouldn't have been just Ash playing.

It was amazing how the place ran. Ash couldn't quite figure it out. There was always food—for lack of a better term, understand—for meals, but no one seemed to be buying it. The Tunnels was just like a little apartment were kids lived—some, the home-sick ones, for a only a day or so—and watched each other, and Ash knew the meager meals had to come from somewhere. He didn't think they could steal so much on a regular basis. The cable TV in the Elite Rooms, as the "leaders''" rooms were called, he could understand, because all you had to do was tap into someone else's receiver. Someone had to do the cleaning too, because the place was clean, but Ash never saw anyone doing any work.

He shook his head and stood up to lean up against the wall of a store and looked inside. At least Pikachu was okay. No one dared bother either of them when Pikachu walked through the halls (minus when he tried going up manholes), and Ash had to chuckle. It wasn't like Pikachu tried to scare them, but she did.

Ash was ready to leave the Tunnels though, and continue on his journey. For the most part, the kids here were all right, but there were a few that seemed to have a vendetta against him. Craig used any spare moment to bring up so biting comment, although he wouldn't bring an all-out attack on Ash if Pikachu was around. Especially as of late Craig had doubled his efforts.

"I thought ya weren't supposed to left alone?" said a teasing voice from behind.

"Hallo, Miriam," he said in a less than thrilled voice. Ash seriously doubted if he was actually "alone". He had seen several Tunnel members cross the street a few moments ago.

Miriam walked to the other side of him and leaned against the wall as he did. "So where's Shamin?"

Ash grinned slightly. Miriam was terribly protective of Shamin, whom she has found on the streets herself a couple years back. From what Ash figured out, Shamin had taken off when her folks split, or something to that extent. No one talked much about his or her problems; that is unless it was decided that their problems endangered the secrecy of the Tunnels. Anyway, Miriam seemingly saved her from some street thugs and brought her to the Tunnels. Miriam was an expert pickpocket-er and usually took it upon herself to train worthy students. They usually ended up being the best on the streets, but Miriam wasn't a pickpocket anymore. His smile faded, and he could remember the conversation him and Shamin had had on the West Ridge Bridge.

It had been Valentine's Day, or around that time. Ash wasn't sure, because he never paid any attention the mushy dates like that. He only knew by the very large number of hearts that hung from the windows. Shamin had said it was the best day to get good pockets because husbands _never_ remembered the date and carried huge wades of cash around to buy last minute gifts.

Ash had probably saved countless suckers by arguing the point of how much troubled the poor guys would go through when they came home giftless. Shamin had crumpled under his constant nagging about it, and they hung around the bridge for lack of anything better to do. She had suggested it, although Ash would have been happy to return back to the Tunnels and spend some time with Pikachu.

_"Pikachu! PIKACHU! Is that all you can think about?" Shamin had demanded as she lifted herself up to sit on the ledge of the bridge._

_"Yes. Pokémon trainers have to think of their Pokémon," Ash sighed, looking down at the water down below. It was covered in a thin sheet of ice, and he flicked a pebble down onto it._

_She kicked her heels against the side of the bridge and leaned back, only saving herself by having a death grip on the ledge._

_"You'd better be careful, or you'll end up falling in," Ash warned, watching her out of the corner of his eye._

_Shamin laughed. "I'm not _that_ stupid, Shan." Then she paused. "Would you go in after me?"_

_"I think I'd be under contract to. Miriam would kill me if I didn't."_

_"You'd only go in only to save your own butt?" she asked incredulously. She was terribly gullible when they got on some things._

_Ash looked at her. "No. She'd be the furthest thing from my head if you fell in. I was only joking, Shamin. If you fell in, I'd jump in right after you without another thought." Shamin smiled at him. "Just don't you it, okay. That water probably cold."_

_She laughed. "I'll try not to, for both our sake's."_

_"Aren't you even cold?" he asked her after a moment. She was wearing only where a short green Tee and blue jeans that couldn't get any shorter. The only thing that actually covered her up was her knee high black high-heeled boots. He couldn't understand why she wore that particular outfit on that cold night instead of her normal grey sweatshirt, which was twenty sizes too big for her, and plain jeans._

_Shamin shrugged. "A little."_

_Ash sighed and removed his fleece jacket, handing it over. "Put this on," he said, rolling his eyes slightly. "You have to dress for the weather."_

_She took the coat carefully, eyes shining. "Thanks, Shan." With a practiced ease she put it on. "How's it look?"_

_"Like my coat on you." She frowned at him, but the smile quickly returned._

_"Isn't the sky pretty?"_

_Ash looked up momentarily. "Looks fine, I suppose. Can't really see the stars though."_

_Shamin turned her blue eyes on him. "You can see them."_

_"Not really. Too much pollution. On a clear night in a decent city they shine like diamonds." Ash pushed himself off the bridge and started to walk down the center to warm up. Shamin watched him rub his arms._

_"You want your coat back?"_

_"No, you wear it. I'll be fine." With a running start, Ash did a cartwheel for the heck of it. His hands landed in a cold snowdrift. "Damn."_

_She drew her legs up so her heels rested on the bridge railing, then wrapped her arms around them. "Why'd you do that for?"_

_"No reason." He looked at her. "You sure you ain't cold? We can head back, you know." He leaned up against the bridge next to her, hoping she'd take the hint._

_Shamin smiled at him, then looked back up at the stars. "You know, Miriam said she's got a hard night ahead of her tonight." Her smile wavered for a moment._

_"What's she do anyway?" Ash asked vaguely, kicking a stone away._

_The blue eyes quickly shot over towards Ash. "You don't know? I thought everyone in the Tunnels did," she murmured._

_Ash raised on eyebrow at her. "Well, I don't."_

_She tilted her head and leaned back on her hands, but she slipped against the ice. The scream was barely out of her throat when Ash grabbed her arm._

_"I told you'd fall," Ash grunted as Shamin slid off the ledge and against him. He wrapped an arm around her. "Come on. Let's get back. You're shivering from the cold."_

_"Okay." She leaned against him, taking a deep breath._

_"So what's Miriam do anyway?" he asked after a fair amount of time passed, when Shamin had more or less stopped shaking from her near fall._

_Shamin raised her eyes momentarily to look at his innocent face. "Well . . ." she started in a quiet voice. "Miriam charges men to do things that some women won't charge you a cent to do."_

_Ash looked down at her. "Pardon?" he asked, confused._

_She sighed downheartedly. "Never mind. Let's get back to the Tunnels."_

_"About time," he smiled, holding her closer absently._

Ash shook his head to remove the sudden memory, then looked at Miriam. "She's out doing 'business'. How you doing?"

Miriam smiled. "Just fine." She fingered tendril of her hair absently and they drifted towards silence.

The people walked past rapidly, and Ash could see the undying talent of Miriam as her eyes followed pockets and purses. He rolled his eyes slightly. He was pretty sure he could pick a pocket without the owner noticing, but something always stopped him at the last second. He could almost see his mom and dad standing behind him and shaking their heads disapprovingly.

Miriam sighed. "So how are ya and Shamin doin' for business today?"

"Ask her."

She clicked her tongue disapprovingly. "Ya really worry me, kid. If ya had the choice between untold riches and capturing a million Pokémon, ya'd choose the rodents, wouldn't ya?"

"At least I'd know what I'm getting. You did say those riches were untold," Ash replied slyly.

Miriam rolled her eyes. "Hopeless."

"Well, don't you have a dream or something?"

She made a bitter smile. "Dreams are for kids, Blondie. They don't get ya anywhere in the world."

"Neither does stealing," he retorted. "If you want something, you got to work for it. And that's what I plan to do."

Miriam kicked up some slush. "Pretty much Spring, ya know."

He banged his heel. "Yep. Me and Pikachu'll take off."

"Well, if I don't say it then, I'll say it now. I'll miss ya. We all will."

"Most of you," Ash corrected.

She looked at his face. "Ya know ya're goin' be a mighty handsome guy?" Ash blushed and looked away. "Serious. Ya got them wide, innocent-type eyes. Can see why some of the girls got the hots for ya." She grinned when Ash turned his head back abruptly, blushing up to his ears. "And don't tell me ya didn't notice."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Ash admitted.

Miriam could hear that he was telling the truth. "Blondie, ya really _are_ blond. And blind," she added. "Half the girls are castin' sheep's eyes at ya. Got a lot of the guys jealous. If it wasn't for that rodent of ya's, they'd probably be hiding in yar room." She grinned wickedly.

"Hmm."

She looked at the budding Romeo, then realized with a smile that he'd probably never be one in the traditional sense. The kid was too . . . sweet for that, and too damn dense. Especially the latter. Miriam shook her head. Just wait until those hormones kick in though. That'd be the decider.

Even still, Miriam looked at his face while he paid attention to the people milling around. If only he was a few years older . . . She grinned wickedly.

"Miriam!" Shamin yelled, suddenly appearing from around the corner.

"Hey, kiddo," she smiled, wrapping an arm around the girl. "How much ya get?"

Shamin pulled out five wallets with a grin. "Easy pickings, once I got rid of the party pooper here." She waved her thumb towards Ash. "What do ya say now, Shan?"

"I say bravo," he said uninterested, kicking up a puddle. "Can we head back now?"

Shamin rolled her eyes at him, but Miriam nodded in agreement. "Yeah. We have to. We have _guests_." She spoke sarcastically.

"Oh, not again," Shamin moaned, leaning against the wall in a pout. "What do we have to do this time?"

"Just a small job, nothing big. We'll find out the details tonight."

"What are you talking about?" Ash asked as they pushed off.

Shamin made a face. "We just have to pay the landlord."

"Huh?"

"The Tunnels were originally so underground base some guy made up. He left them years ago and we moved in. He lets us stay so long as we do a few chores," Miriam explained.

"Such as?"

"Rob his competitors, I guess. I actually haven't gone on a lot of them. Usually it's a handpicked group. Sort of like an initiation." They ducked into the side alley and down into the sewers. "Kinda sucks while they're here though, but hey, what else can we do?"

Ash didn't respond, looking around. "I'm going to go check on Pikachu. She's probably bored silly."

As he took off, he heard Shamin snort. "Stupid rodent. It's all he thinks about."

"Don't worry 'bout it, Shamin. He's a guy. What'd ya expect? Feel lucky it's not about cars."

*****

"You hungry?" Ash grinned evilly. "Cause I know I am."

"Pikachu!" Pikachu laughed, leaping onto his shoulder.

"Then let's go!" Ash leaped off the bed and went towards the door. Usually the bunkers held two people, but, thanks to Pikachu, he had one to himself. He opened it, then stopped himself. "Hey, Shamin. What cha doing?"

She blushed. "I was, um, just, umm, going to tell you to get down to the mess hall," she replied, not meeting his gaze. "Hey, Rod—Pikachu!"

"Pikachu!" Pikachu greeted, pleased with the correct title. No one ever called her Pikachu down here, aside from Ash. "Chu ka pikachu pi pika."

Shamin kept her smile plastered on her face, having no idea if Pikachu just cussed her out. Guiltily she remembered that she had accidentally stepped on mouse's tail, an event she was not willing to repeat. "What did she say, Shan?" she asked through her smile.

Ash smiled at her. "She said her tail's fine. Come on. We're starving."

"When aren't you?" she asked rolling her eyes. Ash merely grinned back at her and they started to walk towards the mess hall

"So when are the mighty quests supposed to come?" Ash asked.

"They're already here."

"Really? Wh—"

"PIKAPI!" Pikachu yelled, pointing suddenly, half off Ash's head.

"What?" Ash tried to see what she was pointing at, then took a deep intake of breath when he spied the familiar red 'R' on the shirts. "It's Team Rocket."

"You know of them, Shan?" Shamin asked, surprised.

"They're Pokémon thieves!" Ash said darkly.

Shamin shrugged. "Hey, everyone's a thief. Everyone steals something sometime in their lifetime." Ash narrowed his eyes at her. "Even you. Come on, let's go get something to eat. These guys are real pigs. Worse than you." She gripped his arm and started to pull him towards an empty table.

"Pikachu, you save our spots," Ash sighed. "And feel free to shock any members of Team Rocket, all right?"

"Shan!"

Pikachu nodded her agreement, sitting happily at the table. "Pikachu."

"You're pathetic, you know?" Shamin sighed as they went up to the counter.

"You told me that already."

"Hi Shan," Zoe, a ditzy blond, giggled. Her troupe smiled at him as well. Shamin narrowed her eyes at them.

"Hallo," he said uninterested as he scooped up some potatoes. "All I'm saying, Shamin, is that Team Rocket is trouble. Where I come from they caused all sorts of problems."

"Say, you want to sit by us?"

Ash looked up at them like he had just noticed them. "You can sit by us. Pikachu's saving a table right over there." The girls followed his nod, trying not to make a face at the lone rodent who waved at them.

Shamin smiled to herself. "Why are you putting on so much ketchup?" she asked innocently.

"Pikachu _loves_ ketchup," Ash grinned and he banged some more of the red goop onto his extra plate. The girls made a mutual face like they were sick. "Well, see you girls later." He picked up his tray and headed off towards the table. Shamin resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at the girls.

"Here you go, Pikachu," Ash smiled, giving the Pokémon a small plate. "Fruit, some of those little cake thingies, carrots, and ketchup. Enjoy."

"Pika, Pikapi," she smiled, settling down to eat. She liked eating this kind of food instead of Pokémon pellets or whatever they were called. Brock's were okay, but the store brand Ash would have been forced to buy were nauseous.

"So what actually goes on here with Team Rocket around, anyway?"

"Nothing big, really. Not usually, anyway." Shamin made a face. "Some of the men are a bit forward though."

Ash paused in bringing his fork to his mouth. "Oh?" Shamin didn't go into details, and he continued to eat, although slower now, as if burdened by some deep thought.

They ate in silence until Pikachu tapped Ash's shoulder. "Pikapi?"

"Hmm?" he asked, his mouth full. She pointed to her plate, which was now empty. "Already?" He rolled his eyes. "Excuse me, Shamin.

"Right, Shan," she smiled, watching him walk away with Pikachu in his arms.

"Man, we got to get training. I think you're getting over-weight."

"Ka!" Pikachu said indignantly and loudly. About five people that were around them jumped away, and Shamin giggled.

"Hello, darling," said a deep gravely voice at her side, causing her to jump, her peas scattering.

"Ah, hi," she muttered, turning her head over to looked at the man. A member of Team Rocket, for sure. The red "R" on the black shirt was a good give-away. He had bluish hair, over twenty, and not very handsome.

"What's your name?"

"Shamin," she said quietly, looking away.

"Shy, huh?" He smiled at her. "I'm a pretty nice guy, ya know." She twirled her food, wishing he'd go away. "You wanna go somewhere?" He placed a hand on her arm, and she flinched.

"No thank you."

"Come on. It'll be fun, trust me." He gripped her arm tighter.

"No."

"Come on, Shamrock."

"NO!"

He pulled harder. "Come—"

"She said no. Can't you hear?" Ash growled, coming up suddenly.

"Who are you?" the Team Rocket member snarled. "Get lost."

"First, leave her alone."

"I will if I want to, so I suggest you'd better get lost if you know what's good for you."

Ash sneered. "Same to you."

"Listen, kid, I don't like your attitude," he growled, standing up.

"Then leave."

"I will. Come on, girl." He gripped Shamin hard by the elbow and wrenched her up. By now, everyone was watching them carefully. No one stood up to the Team Rocket members.

"Let me go!" Shamin pleaded. "Shan!"

"Let her go!" Ash ordered.

"Make me," he challenged.

A twisted smile crossed Ash's face and he shrugged, reaching behind his back. "You asked for it." With that, he grabbed the metal tray and brought it towards the Team Rocket-er's face. The man crumbled, gripping his nose. "Come on, Shamin."

"And where do you think you're going?" the man demanded, although muffled. His hand was next to his nose, and blood was running down. "Raticate, go!"

The whole hall backed up even more. The Raticate was terrifying. At least the little mouse the kid had was cute.

"You folks here are scared of Pokémon, aren't ya?" he grinned at Ash, who had an arm extended over Shamin protectively. "Tackle!"

"Pikachu, quick attack!" Ash yelled.

"Pi-KA!" she yelled appearing out from the side to intercept Raticate. The Raticate rolled, surprised at the attack.

"You guys aren't supposed to have Pokémon!"

"What? Can't battle?" Ash taunted. "Where's the Team Rocket motto, huh?"

He gritted his teeth, bring his gloved hand away to let the blood flow freely. "Is it a battle, you want? You got it! Raticate, hyper fang!"

"Agility!"

Pikachu leaped away from the rat, moving rapidly around the brown creature.

"Tackle it, Raticate!" The rat tried to jump onto Pikachu, but she was already gone from her past position.

"Thundershock now!" Ash ordered, leaping onto the table with Shamin.

"CHU!"

The metal floor absorbed the electricity as it had before, this time shocking everyone in the room. Their screams filled the air, and then they collapsed to the ground.

"Pi ka!" Pikachu panted, then leaped up to Ash as he helped Shamin down.

"Good job, Pikachu. You all right?" he asked Shamin, who eyes were like saucers looking between Pikachu and the Raticate.

Shamin nodded mutely, looking at the Raticate and Team Rocket-er. "Thanks." Her eyes shone gratitude from the unshed tears.

He smiled. "No problem. You got to thank Pikachu too." Pikachu leaped up into his arms.

"Pi!" she agreed.

She forced a laughed, almost crying. "Thanks, both of you."

"Marvelous show," said a man. Clapping filled the area. They turned quickly to see whom it was coming from.

"_Pika!?_"

"Shan! It's the head of Team Rocket!" Shamin whispered fearfully, ducking behind Ash.

Ash narrowed his eyes as the man. "No. _That's_ the Viridian City Gym Leader, Giovanni."

"Who?" Shamin demanded.

"WHAT THE _HELL_ HAPPENED?" Johnny yelled, suddenly appearing with some of his groupies at the opposite entrance and looking around at the fallen bodies. He spotted Ash standing there and vaulted over the bodies to grab the front of the younger boy's shirt and brought him against the table. "Shan! I know you bloody did this!"

"Let me go, all right! I didn't start it," Ash said hotly, trying to push Johnny off.

"He's telling the truth, Johnny," Shamin exclaimed. "That Rocket-er was going to attack us with a Pokémon! That ugly thing right there!" She pointed.

Johnny momentarily shifted his gaze to see the unconscious Raticate.

"Pika . . ." Pikachu started warningly, setting her tail on him.

He looked down quickly, then quickly removed his hands from Ash. "Get your stupid rat—"

"Wonderful attacks," Giovanni said calmly, walking up to look at Ash. "A very well-trained Pikachu. What's your name?"

Ash looked at him in silent loathing. "His name's Shan, Sir, the one Tommy told you about," Johnny said quickly, narrowing his eyes at Ash for not responding.

"I didn't actually believe anyone over here was a Pokémon trainer. This _is_ a pleasant surprise, Mr. Shan, to see that this rumor is true." He looked down at Pikachu, who started to back up and growl. "A very powerful creature, isn't he?"

"Yes, _she_ is," Ash said darkly. So there was a reason he was kept here.

Giovanni's smile faded momentarily at the correction. "My mistake."

"Are you hungry, Sir?" Johnny asked quickly. Giovanni didn't respond so much as just leave, and Johnny turned to Ash. "Listen, Shan, don't you dare piss that guy off," he hissed before he too turned to leave.

"Pikachu," Pikachu growled, jumping onto a table.

"I'm outta here," Ash said, turning to leave.

Shamin grabbed his arm. "You can't," she said, her voice higher than usual. She paused for a second, taking a deep breath. "They want everyone down here. You can't go, Shan. They'll just have a reason to _drag_ you down."

Ash narrowed his eyes at her, but sat down anyway seeing the doors actually being guarded. Pikachu leaped into his lap, and he petted her head. "This is trouble, Pikachu."

"Pi," she agreed, sending small electric bolts out of her cheeks.

*****

A ring of empty tables surrounded the one table, isolating it from all perspectives. Ash didn't care, eating his mystery meat angrily. Pikachu sat next to him, looking at growing numbers of Team Rocket that were coming in suspiciously. Too many attempts on kidnapping her had given the mouse a very strong mistrust of them.

"Lighten up, you two," Shamin pleaded. "Look, they're okay, for the most part."

Ash snapped his head at her. "Do you think if you say it enough that it'll be true?" he demanded harshly, although he didn't raise his voice as loud as he wanted. Out of the corner of his eye Ash could see Giovanni studying him.

"Chu," Pikachu growled, pushing herself closer against him, noticing all the hungry stares the outlaws were giving her.

He gathered her in his arms. "It's all right, Pikachu. They wouldn't dare," he soothed, although Ash knew he was probably lying through his teeth. Pikachu could tell.

"Pikapi," she scolded, giving him a mild shock as a reprimand.

"Hey!" he laughed, poking her in the stomach. "Fine, they're all after you! So watch yourself!"

She leaped from his arms and onto the table, paws out like she was ready to box. "Pi! Ka! Chu!" she said, accenting each syllable with a jab.

Shamin made a face. "They're running for cover now," she jeered sarcastically, leaning her head against her hand and looking at the tiny mouse. Yet, although unspoken, she did have a new respect for the rodent.

"Pi!"

Ash frowned at her, then broke out into a proud smile. "You just wait. Pikachu can handle these idiots, can't you?"

"PIKA!" Pikachu said confidently, nodding her head.

"Over-confidence is never a pretty thing to witness," Shamin sighed, watching the two.

"Well, Pikachu could beat them one-on-one, most of the time, anyway," Ash argued, sticking up for his Pokémon against the "nonbeliever". "But if they all ganged up on us, we'd be toast." He looked around the room again. The once empty tables around them were starting to be filled with the outlaws. "Did we choose a bad table?"

Shamin looked around. "You _had_ to fight that ratty thing. No Tunnel members are gonna sit close to you now that you've made an enemy with Team Rocket."

"It was a Raticate," he sighed. "Fine. Next time I'll let it attack us."

"I didn't say that."

Ash gave her a small smile as he leaned back on his chair. "You're sil—Wh-OA!" he yelped as his chair suddenly disappeared and he fell to the ground.

"Thank ya for the chair!" Miriam smiled, straddling her legs on each side and smiling at the fallen previous owner.

He stood up and tried his best to ignore the laughter, grabbing another chair to sit on. "Thanks a lot, Miriam." He glared at Pikachu, who was rolling around with laughter. "You saw her, didn't you?" Pikachu tried to look innocent.

"Of course she didn't," Miriam said loyally, looking around. "Love the table position, by the way."

"You missed the show," Shamin sighed. Miriam looked at her curiously. "Shan was in a Pokémon battle with this Ratty-cape."

"Raticate," Ash corrected again.

"I don't care. It was ugly."

Ash blinked. "No it wasn't."

"Well, it wasn't cute like Pikachu."

Pikachu looked at her happily. "Pi!"

Miriam set her head down on her arms. "Ya won, I trust, Blondie? No, don't answer that." Her eyes looked at over the room again, then let out a low whistle. "The Big Guy's here? This is gotta be somethin'."

"Doesn't Giovanni usually come?" Ash muttered sarcastically.

She squinted her eyes and chewed on her thumbnail. "Is it just me, or he lookin' over here?"

"Probably is," Shamin said. "He talked to Shan. Said he was impressed."

The eldest let out another whistle, looking at Ash. "Blondie, ya're in trouble now."

"Double trouble," Ash agreed.

Miriam shook her head. "Ya don't get me. Usually we have somethin' to entertain the Rocket folks, music or . . . other ways," she said lamely. "If what's his name was interested in _ya_, or the Rodent, and he's got how many Pokémon, well ya figure it out."

Ash frowned. "You think he's going to have me battle? That's crazy. Pikachu wouldn't stand a chance against fifty separate battles. She'd lose from exhaustion, and I don't have any potions in case she gets hurt. It'd be dangerous for her."

She looked at him sympathetically. "Like he cares, Blondie."

Shamin was thoughtful. "Well, Pikachu can't battle. The whole place is metal, and every time she thunder-whatevers, well, we go with it," she reasoned.

Miriam looked her in a mixture of amused sadness. "This is Team Rocket we're talkin' about, darlin'. They'll find a way. And this place _is_ pretty large."

Ash looked at Pikachu intently, and both could see that the other was nervous at the prospect. Pikachu had lost to Team Rocket before—Jessie, James, and Meowth—and _they_ had seemingly been the idiots of the group. One slip-up now and it was . . .

Suddenly the chatting room was bustling with _ssshhhhh_'s from every corner, and the table looked up to see Giovanni standing up importantly, the Persian at his side, and a Rocket member at his other. When everyone was silent, Giovanni smiled, or at least moved his lips into the sense of a smile.

"There certainly are a lot more faces here." His eyes flickered over to Ash and lingered.

"Blondie, ya _are_ in trouble," Miriam sighed, turning her head to look at him as well.

"Double."

"Do you want anything, Sir?" Johnny asked after Giovanni was quiet.

The head turned momentarily towards Johnny. "How about some Entertainment. I have the sudden interest to see a Pokémon battle."

Ash could hear everyone shift in his or her seat to look at him, and he gritted his teeth. "Pikapi," Pikachu whispered, seeing the Team Rocket members look at her like fresh meat.

"Let the games begin," Giovanni said.

*****

Ash knelt next to Pikachu, petting her head softly. The pent-up worry was radiating off both of them, but neither added their worry to the others. "Just try your best, all right," Ash murmured, trying to ignore the fact that there were guards blocking his exit. "You know they're going to send out Rock, Grass, Dragon, Ghost, or Psychic, what you're bad against, okay? Which means your Thundershock won't be that helpful, so we have to save it. And be smarter than they are. I know that shouldn't be _too_ difficult, but hey."

"Pika," she nodded, taking reassurance in Ash's calm voice, his thoughtful inspection of their oncoming battles with her (something he had rarely done before going to Z.P.S.), and her latest victory. Neither of them had battled in over a year, seriously, anyway, because protecting the house from wild Pokémon wasn't the same as fighting trained Pokémon, and that was going to be a serious disadvantage.

"It's like riding a bike," Ash whispered. She looked up, startled. He had seemingly read her very thoughts. Ash looked at her worried. "Something wrong, Pikachu?" She looked at him curiously, at his worried face, and saw that he probably just said it for his own confidence and not so much for her. Probably, anyway. Pikachu smiled at him encouragingly. He smiled back. "Do your best," he repeated.

"Chu pi, Pikapi," she said.

He grinned. "I will too."

"Are both trainers ready?" demanded a voice. Ash nodded as he stood up. "These will be a one-on-one battle with no time-limit. Trainers"— the announcer snorted—"choose your Pokémon."

"Go get them, Pikachu."

"Pika!" She dashed off into the center of the field. They were using a section of the Tunnels that was tiles with old stone, for it had once been a training ground, and Giovanni had welcomed all Tunnel residence to watch. Almost everyone did, and they sat waiting expectantly for their first (or, is some cases, second) Pokémon battle.

"Go . . . Golem!" the Team Rocket choice yelled, throwing the Pokéball into the ring.

The Golem appeared in a tremendous roar that shook the very walls, and Ash and Pikachu did a double take. It was enormous. Ash didn't have Dexter anymore, so he wouldn't have been able to find out that the average size for a Golem was 4'7", but Ash did know that this Golem was a _lot_ bigger than a normal Golem. He could literally see the tiny cracks forming in the stones under it.

The Rocket-er smiled at their mutual expressions, a cool motion on her thin lips. "Golem, tackle!" It started rolling down, right towards Pikachu.

"Pika—" She froze.

"Move, Pikachu. Use your tail as a spring and leap over it!" Ash yelled.

She quickly complied, just in time. The Golem skidded to a halt for a few yards, causing the stones to break from their holdings.

"Golem, earthquake!" It stomped its overly large foot against the ground, shaking everything. Spectators and trainers alike struggled to keep their footings and seating in place. Ash quickly rolled aside to get crushed by a stone that had freed itself from the ceiling. Seeing that the Trainer was distracted, the Rocket-er ordered, "Rock throw!"

Pikachu was busy worrying about Ash. "Pikapi!"

"I'm all right! Quick, use Agility! NOW!" His mind quickly sought for something as Pikachu dodged the flying stones easily. "Pikachu—"

*****

"What'd he say?" Shamin asked, stretching up in her seat to see Ash and Pikachu. "I can't see him. Maybe we should get closer." She looked hopefully at her friend.

"Darlin', we're like thirty feet away. Ya got a close enough view," Miriam smiled, wiping off the rock dust. "Bit too close, really."

"Aren't you even interested in watching?"

Miriam shrugged, although her eyes did glance up at brief intervals. "It's borin'."

"No, it's not," Shamin countered.

An impish grin danced across her face. "Ya're only sayin' that because ya li—hey, what is he doin'?" Her head jerked past Shamin onto the ring. "The little Rodent's gonna get sga-wished!"

Shamin's gaze was sucked right back at the field. "Oh, God!" Pikachu was running around the field with that . . . that _thing_ rolling after her.

"Why doesn't she just use her thunder-whatevers!"

"Blondie probably has his reasons," Miriam said, although she too was in doubt. "Run ya bloody rodent!" she screamed, jumping up.

"You're cheering?" Shamin teased, although she too was up and watching Pikachu dodge the rolling stone. "She can't keep this up. What's Shan _doing_?"

"Damn, shut up!" Miriam snapped at her. Shamin thought that was a bit harsh, since everyone was laughing at Pikachu, believing she was done for. "He said somethin'!"

"What?"

"How should I know? Ya were talkin'!" Miriam pointed suddenly, leaping up and down. "She bloody stopped! He ordered her to stop! IDIOT!"

Shamin practically bit off her fingertips as she watched the Golem rush towards the still Pikachu. Now that it had a still target, she could see it speeding up as it neared.

"NOW!"

With that word, the Golem less than three feet away, Pikachu leaped up and over the rolling ball. Now, as the creature struggled to halt, battling inertia, Shamin watched as a wide grin escaped her lips. At its high speed, the Golem couldn't stop its momentum, try as it might, and the tiles started to leave their homes and build a hive around the Pokémon.

The trainer was glued to the spot, a horrified grin on her face as the Golem headed straight for her. "STOP YOU STUPID THING!" she demanded, running away too late. The creature smashed into her and carried them both towards the wall, burying her in the debris as well.

"I knew he had somethin' up his sleeve!" Miriam yelled, grabbing Shamin's arm and jumping up and down. "He won! He won! Show them blasted Rockets that we're just as good! HA! ALL RIGHT, SHAN!" She let out a piercing whistle.

"Bored, aren't we?" Shamin teased, half-listening to the announcer declare what they already knew.

"Hell yeah!" her white-haired friend grinned. "If I was havin' fun, I wouldn't even be _here_!"

Shamin tried to work the logic in her head, but couldn't. "Let's go down before they can start up another one!"

Miriam gripped her wrist like a mother would to a five-year-old's, then started to weave over the people in front of them. "Right. Move over, comin' through! COMIN' _THROUGH_! Damn, don't ya have any _manners_! Move for the _ladies_!" She planted her foot on a guy's back and pushed him forward. "Thank ya!"

After much fighting to get down the few bleachers, they dashed over to Ash, who did have a _small_ ring of admirers around him. Miriam pushed through in her own way while Shamin followed in the wake, rubbing her wrist. "Ya're a bloody idiot, Blondie! Rodent here could've gotten sga-wished!" the "den-mother" scolded almost instantly.

Ash smiled up at them, kneeling next to Pikachu, who was resting up. "But she didn't, did she?"

"_That's_ not the point!"

"Why didn't you just have her Thunder it?" Shamin demanded.

Ash blew a sweaty wisp of hair out of his eyes. He was sweating from the heat of the stadium more than from actual work, for that was a relatively easy battle. The Rocket member didn't put nearly as much thought into her attacks, probably believing that Golem's size promised easy victory. "Golem is a rock type, and Electric attacks aren't any good against it unless they're paired with a Water type. I would have preferred to use Squirtle. If I had one," he added quickly.

"Pikachu!"

He smiled down at her. "It would have been easier on you, so don't deny it." His eyes shifted towards the other side, where a group of Team Rocket members were planning their next trainer. "It feels good to be back on the field, doesn't it, Pikachu?"

She nodded. "Pika!"

"Where'd ya get the idea to use Physics?" Miriam asked, examining her nails thoughtfully.

Ash's brow wrinkled. "Never heard of _that_ attack."

"Blondie! It's not an attack! Momentum with the . . .mass and fiction and . . . stuff," she finished lamely waving her hand as if drying her nails, knowing that she had no idea what she was talking about.

"Don't strain your brain," he advised with a small smile.

"And I think you mean 'friction'. Not fiction. Fiction's what you read," Shamin said teasingly.

"Cute. Regular Egg Benedicts." She narrowed her eyes, daring them to contradict her.

Ash and Shamin made brief eye contact and smiled at their friend's lack of schooling in some areas. "So what's going on over there?" Shamin asked, standing up on her tiptoes to look at the Team Rocket members. They seemed to be circling one member in particular.

"Looks like they finally chosen one," Miriam said calmly. "Wonder what Pokémon this one'll use?"

"Hope it's cute," Shamin sighed.

"You're pathetic," Ash snapped off-handedly, wondering the same thing as Miriam, although a lot more worried.

She crossed her arms in a pout. "Touchy." Biting her lip, Shamin looked between the two platforms that the trainers stood on. "Can I watch from here?" she asked in a rush. "_Please_? I won't say a word. Promise! Cross my heart!"

Ash looked at her sideways, then behind her.

"What are ya lookin' for?" Miriam asked as he circled Shamin.

"The duct tape she's gonna use," he said matter-of-factly. Miriam quickly hid her smile behind her hand.

Shamin bunched up her face and smacked him upside the head. "Jerk!" She was tempted sorely to kick Pikachu as well, for the mouse was laughing, but the insulted one thought that might be pushing it a _wee_ bit.

Shamin didn't have much of an arm, but Ash rubbed the back of his head anyway. "I don't know why you'd want to. But you can, I suppose." He added quickly, "It's not really regulation, though."

"Nothin' is ever run regulation down here, or with Team Rocket," Miriam stated, a smile still on her face.

Ash nodded his agreement, watching as the chosen one started to walk out. The referee also started for his position. "Are you gonna stay down too, Miriam?"

She shook her head, then looked at the ends of her hair as they swished in front of her face. "I have split ends!" Miriam walked back to her seat, doting her hair as she did so.

"She's really enjoying herself, just so you know," Shamin said reassuringly. Ash took no notice of the statement.

"You sure to want to be down here?" He didn't wait for her answer, not even looking at her. "You can stand off the platform, that way you have a good view but no one really sees you."

"You don't want them to see me?" she sniffed teasingly.

His head turned briefly to look at her, worry on his face. When he saw that she was only joking, Ash smiled. "I don't need them saying that I need help from a _girl_ to win."

"You do," she stated empathetically as she walked off.

"Do not."

"Do too."

"Not."

"Too. Too. TOO!"

"NOT! to infinity!"

"Too to infinity times ten!"

"Infinity times infinity tripled Not!"

"PIKAPI!" Pikachu yelled, finally getting through the mock (and very childish, in her opinion,) argument. She pointed over towards the Rocket member, who was waiting as patiently as Team Rocket does. That is to say, he wasn't very patient in waiting.

"The home team chooses Pikachu," the referee stated loudly as Ash ordered Pikachu out. "Big surprise there, huh folks?" A mild chuckle went up through the crowd. "The challenger, please reveal your Pokémon."

The Rocket Member had been tossing the Pokéball in into the air and catching it in a self-assured manner. There was a grin on his face when he threw it, yelling, "Go, Sandslash!"

"Ooh, that one's kinda cute," Ash heard Shamin coo from behind him. He didn't bother to give her a look, trying to remember what he could about Sandslash. Heaven help him, all he could recall was that evolved form of Sandshrew and was strong against electric attacks. (Actually, he didn't remember that detail, but correctly deduced that it would be.) He licked his lips nervously, feverishly wishing he had his Pokédex.

Ash blinked at a sudden thought. He was too reliant on his Pokédex for a Trainer. After all this, Ash promised himself, he would make himself learn everything about all the Pokémon so he'd never get in a fix like this again. It put Pikachu in danger, for one thing, thanks to his own _Ignorance_. It was a sickening thought when Ash realized all this in a picosecond.

"Sandslash, fury swipes!"

"Avoid them, Pikachu!" Ash yelled.

"Poison sting now!"

"Saan!" the Sandslash agreed, releasing the poison bars into the air.

Pikachu dodged as many as she could, but several found home in on her. "Pika!" she yelled in pain, being thrown back.

"All right, Sandslash!"

"You all right Pikachu?" Ash yelled as she forced herself up.

"Pi, Pikapi," she said bravely.

Ash gritted his teeth, knowing she was just putting up a brave front. Already the poison was making her stagger.

"Sandslash! Under the ground!" The mouse Pokémon dived under instantly.

Pikachu turned her head wildly, looking frantically. "Pi! Pikapi!" she said in a panic.

"Pikachu, be quiet and listen!" Ash ordered. "Use those ears you have! Like at home!" He was talking about when they'd listen to the stories below to tell if anyone was coming up the stairs during one of his father's meeting-supper things. Ash always slipped out of them as soon as possible, claiming flute practice or an _unstated_ amount of homework, (so he'd never actually lie, per say,) but some of the guests, Carmen, or his father always felt the need to check on him. The guests were the worst because (aside from the fact that they didn't think it was necessary to knock before entering) they always wanted to "check" on his progress into the "exciting" world of business shudder, and usually wanted to hear him play something. Ash just wanted them out as soon as possible so Pikachu could get out of the pillowcase and resume breathing.

"Remember?"

Her ears tweaked slightly as she closed her eyes. The crowded rolled in laughter, shrieking that she was falling asleep on the field. The Rocket member was torn between being insulted at the action, and gleeful at the promising luck for attack to the "unsuspecting creature".

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Shamin whispered.

"Quiet!" Ash snapped, not turning to face her, ears also perked, although there wasn't a snowball's chance in Hell that _he'd_ hear anything.

"Sorry," she muttered, leaning back and waited for the attack. Shamin was really worried about Pikachu. Those barbs looked like they hurt, but Ash didn't seem that concerned for the Rodent. She had no idea that this Pokémon junk was so heartless.

Everyone waited, but the Rocket-er gave no order for attack yet. Pikachu sat poised, eyes still closed, trying to listen past the mumbling of the audience. Ash watched her, praying that she could tell where the Sandslash was waiting. He even blinked in surprise when she relaxed and yawned in a bored sort of way, but then nodded at her smile. She knew where the Sandslash lay and was ready, and Ash relaxed as well. All they need to do now was play the wait game.

"Pikapi, chu pikachu. Pi pikachu pika ka pikachu?" Pikachu asked conversationally, resting on her hunches.

_Or simply draw it out. _He couldn't hide the smile, sitting down like she had said. "Soon. Maybe after all this."

"You are in the middle of a battle, ya know," Shamin said reproachfully from her position, looking around at the audience, who was finding the situation humorously shocking.

"I thought you weren't going to say a word."

Shamin stuck her tongue out at his back.

"Chu ka pika pikachu?"

Ash looked pasted Pikachu, then smiled as he leaned his head against his hand. "He's insulted," he mouthed to her quietly. She nodded slightly. "Listen, Pikachu, when that Sandslash comes up, I want you to aim for the underbelly, all right. No quills. Softest, most vulnerable part." _I hope_, he added mentally. "You know what I mean, right?"

She nodded, twirling in a circle and making an occasional loop-de-loop for effect. "Pi, Pikapi."

"Look, that guy over there is getting exceedingly pissed off that you're not taking this seriously!" Shamin hissed. "At least stand up."

"Aren't you going to use that duct tape?"

"I don't have any!"

"Then get some!"

"I hate you, you know! I'm only trying to help."

Ash turned his head slightly. "Look, we know what we're doing, more or less, all right. It's all an act to get that guy to make the Sandslash come up faster. Pikachu knows exactly where it is."

Shamin snorted. "Yeah, probably right _under_ her."

He turned his head back to the field. "Maybe."

"It probably is," she muttered, crossing her arms defiantly.

"Pi-ka-pi-ka-pi-KA!" Pikachu sang as she rocked.

Ash let his eyes briefly fall over to the Rocket-er, who was in a silent rage at the total lack of seriousness Ash and Pikachu were showing to the battle. It was exactly what Ash wanted. Angry trainers make stupid mistakes, such as having their Pokémon leave a great vantage point. It was a very childish maneuver that was very effective on those with too much pride.

Ash knew he would have fallen for it himself.

The red was overtaking the face now, and the eyes were narrowed as they watched Pikachu show lack of gravity for the situation she was in. (Right now she had climbed on top of a pile of tiles and was acting like she was placing a flag in the ground.) Other Trainers had not reacted this way to this attack. They had ordered their Pokémon to continue moving so the Sandslash couldn't get under them, thus tiring their own Pokémon out. _This_ riff-raff Trainer seemed willing to let the Sandslash attack, as if he had an ace up his sleeve he was waiting to deploy. What was even worse was that the opponents and audience were _laughing_ at him.

The Rocket-er's eye started to twitch.

"Go, Sandslash!" he roared as Pikachu leaped high into the air and was returning.

The Sandslash jumped from his home under the ground and towards the falling Pikachu, quills ready. Pikachu was ready as well. Using the tiles that had flown free above the Sandslash, she gripped a small stop and leaped away to the ground. Then, as ordered by Ash from before, she leaped smartly back up and delivered a tiny but effective and powerful kick to the Sandslash in the underbelly. The Sandslash struggled to swipe Pikachu in the air as she gripped its soft fur, but the momentum of its own arm passes and her kick turned it over in midair and caused it to lie on its back. The quill dug into the ground, impaling it in place.

"Thundershock, Pikachu!" Ash ordered, seeing that it was stuck. Sandslash may be strong against electric, but at its present position, the most vulnerable area exposed, Pikachu might hit home.

"CHU!"

The high-voltage rodent let out her shock, and continued it for as long as her Thunder sacs would allow, over a good two minutes. Finally Pikachu subsided and looked at the Sandslash, its quills still holding it in place. Its eyes were twirling.

"Sandslash is unable to battle," the referee announced, although he sounded disgusted. "The match goes to Pikachu."

Ash made no comment as the statement was made, calling Pikachu to his side. Carefully he kneeled down and picked her up. "That was good," he whispered. "You feeling all right?"

"Pika!" she nodded, somewhat breathless.

He set her down, dimly hearing Shamin come up. "I'm going to massage your sacs, okay? _That_ was a really strong attack."

Pikachu smiled up at him, pleased with the treatment she was going to receive. She laid happily on his lap and allowed his palms to go over her cheeks.

"You were lucky," Shamin stated. "If it hadn't gotten stuck—"

"It did, though," Ash stated quietly, rubbing gently. "We take what happens. Pikachu kicked it, and it rolled. We had something to do with it, anyway."

"Still lucky."

"You take what you get," he repeated quietly, studying Pikachu.

Shamin followed his gaze. "What are you doing?"

"Just massaging her sacs." Shamin snorted, and Ash raised an eyebrow at her. "That electric attack was really strong, so I'm relaxing her electric sacs—they're in her cheeks—in case she has to use another attack like that."

"It looked like a very strong attack."

"It was," Ash agreed proudly. "She's a high-power Pikachu."

"Pi!" she said happily.

Shamin was silent watching Ash massage Pikachu's cheeks. It was a somewhat soothing sight to watch the two friends take care of each other, mentally and physically. To her, the blond-haired boy was different from the others down here, and not just because he liked Pokémon. There was just something . . . charismatic and innocent about him.

It seemed that in no time at all Team Rocket had chosen its next champion.

Now, when Shamin looked at her friend—she purposely left out the gender-defining word—she saw that he started to look worried, and was casting frantic glances at Pikachu. All this was trying on her, and he knew it.

The referee stood center as the two trainers took their positions. "Release your Pokémon, trainers."

"Go, Pikachu."

"Pika." She scurried out, ready.

The Rocket-er looked confident, even more than the others had. With a graceful ease, he threw back his arm, not even bothering to yell its release. The second Ash saw it a cold sweat lined his brow.

"Oh, no," he murmured.

"What?" Shamin asked, suddenly worried as she looked at the yellow Pokémon holding its ridiculous metal spoons. "What's wrong with this one?"

"It's Alakazam, a Psychic Pokémon, one of the strongest around." She saw him nervously bite his lip. "The only thing actually strong against them is a Bug or Ghost Pokémon."

"G-ghost?" she repeated nervously.

"And Pikachu's really tired," Ash continued weakly.

"Alakazam, confusion," the Trainer smiled.

"Ala!" it grunted, its eyes suddenly a-glow.

"Pi!" She turned ridged.

"Pikachu! Come on, try and fight it! Use your mind against it! Come on!" Ash ordered.

Pikachu clearly tried, but against a Psychic Pokémon at this high level and after so many battles already, she didn't have much energy left. Ash gasped as she was thrown up into the air and brought down hard, again and again.

"Come on, Pikachu!"

"Can't you do, anything?" Shamin screeched. "Isn't there something she can use to fight it?"

Ash gritted his teeth, trying to form a hopeless strategy as Pikachu yelled in pain with each hit of the ground. He could tell that the Alakazam was playing with Pikachu—it could have beaten the mouse easily, but, like a typical cat, it had to play with its prey.

"Isn't there something that could take her mind off the attack!" Shamin demanded. "Damn, psychic crap is all mind games, anyway! Mind over the other mind, right?"

"It's not that easy!" Ash snapped, wishing Shamin'd just shut up. He had to concentrate on Pikachu, but Ash knew that if he didn't give her some kind of information the girl would _never_ **shut up**. "If we had been training over the past year, Pikachu might have had _some_ experience with psychic Pokémon, but this is like her _third_ battle ever with that type. She doesn't know any kind of psychic attacks! And what you're saying, if it's even plausible, she'd have to have a stronger outside influence than what the Psychic Pokémon is giving her! Something would have to break through the shield, or she'd have to have a really strong will."

"Well, don't you have anything that'd do more make her think about something else and break the trance thingy? She's getting hurt!"

Suddenly Ash's mind blinked and he whirled around. "Go to my room and get the black case on the nightstand!" he ordered.

"W-w-what?" she questioned.

"Just go! And hurry!" He turned quickly back to the field. "Hold on, PIKACHU!" His head jerked sideways. "Damn it, Shamin, GO!"

Shamin blinked, then ran blindly out and down the corridor. It was empty except for a few miscellaneous riff-raff, as everyone was at the tournament.

Unfortunately, the room she needed to get to was at the exact opposite end of the Tunnels.

She was out of breath when she got to the door and wrenched it open, immensely relieved that it wasn't locked. (It wasn't actually common practice to lock doors, because at left two-thirds of the tenants knew how to pick locks.) The room was bared except for the bed, bag in the corner, and the nightstand. Her eyes fell towards it, and, just were Shan had said it'd be, was the case. Without a thought, she grabbed it and dashed back to the battle like the entire Cornflower Police Squad was after her.

"Here!" she gasped, tossing him the case.

Ash fumbled with it, quickly opening it. Shamin couldn't find the breath to question what it was, and in a moment she saw as he jabbed the silver ends together. "Damn, I hope this works!" he muttered urgently.

"—?" She couldn't even get out a question before he let out a shrill, shrill note. It probably wasn't even a note it was so seemingly high.

"PIKACHU!" Pikachu yelled in pain, gripping her ears as she came back down.

But this time she stayed down, her mind much more focused on the piercing (and, to her, very painful) note Ash had released.

"Get away from it, Pikachu!" Ash ordered instantly, once she was free.

"Chu!" she nodded, and tried to run off, but she was so tired so it wasn't up to her usual standards.

The trainer was blinking in surprise, for the helpless rodent was now free from his Alakazam's grasp. "Alakazam, Psybeam!"

It crossed the spoons at the order. "Zam!"

"Watch out, Pikachu!" Ash yelled as the beam headed towards his friend.

Although she tried to dodge, the beam caught her in a glancing blow.

"Pika!"

"Shan! Aren't those spoon thingies metal?" Shamin questioned. She just didn't catch onto the idea of not talking.

"Yeah, but Alakazam'll just use Recover to, well, recover. Move, Pikachu!"

Shamin bit her bottom lip. "What it fit could get wet, and Pikachu shock it a lot like last time?"

"If there was . . . water," Ash trailed off, looking around the make-shift gym.

"I'll get a hose!"

"No!" Ash narrowed his eyes. "Listen to me, Pikachu! Stop! Now!"

"Pikapi!" she questioned his insane order, but stopped anyway because he had ordered her to.

"What the hell are you doing?" Shamin yelled, practically jumping up to kill him. Ash ignored her.

"Pikachu! Look up!" She did quickly, but didn't understand.

"Pikachu!" she questioned frantically.

"The spigot!"

"Psychic attack!"

Once again Pikachu was lifted up into the air, and she hung limply, almost unable to continue. Her eyes were locked with Ash's determined ones, and she tried to read past them as they flickered aside and the flute was brought back up to his lips. Her own gaze followed to see a metal spigot. A metal spigot . . .

She was being thrown up at an alarming pace when Ash blew the note again. Her mind momentarily free again, and still moving upwards, Pikachu gripped onto the spigot and held on. And slowly it started to turn . . .

Water gushed out, a full stream that expanded out and she brought her weight into it. She let go of the slippery metal.

"THUNDERWAVE, NOW!"

"Pika-CHUUUU!"

The electricity flowed with the water as it doused everyone under the sprinkler, including both trainers and Pokémon. The very air was a massive current, and it seemingly gave Pikachu a platform to stand on as she fell to the ground. Once her paws touched the ground, she could no longer continue the attack and allowed the air to return to normal, except for the falling water.

"Go-od job, P-Pikachu," Ash got out, not being one of the lucky who escaped the attack. Neither was the other Trainer, although he was in worse shape, being psychicly connected to Alakazam. It laid in the middle, unconscious, as its Trainer couldn't order it to Recover just yet.

"The m-m-m-match go-go-goes to Pi-pika-chu-u," the referee stuttered.

Ash got up and went to pick up Pikachu, who was almost in a faint. His left eye was twitching wildly, and his hair was standing out on end. Even still, he made his voice heard to everyone, especially Giovanni.

"No more! I forfeit all Battles!"

Then he turned and carefully walked out, caring for Pikachu all the while, heedless of the eyes watching him. The guards halted his process for a moment, and he glared at them. They still didn't budge, looking at Giovanni for their next move. Ash turned his head slightly to sneer and humbly beg permission to leave.

Giovanni waved his hand slightly, and they separated. Then, petting the Persian, he nodded and smiled. Definite promise, most definite.

****

"Are you feeling better, Pikachu?" Ash murmured, rolling over on the bed. What he really wanted was a potion of some sort to give to Pikachu, but he had to settle with simply lying down for a bit. There was no way he was going to go up and ask a member of Team Rocket or Giovanni for one. Actually, Ash edited his thought, he _would_ go up and ask for one, no matter what the cost, but only if Pikachu was in dire need of it, in near death or similar.

Luckily she wasn't, so he did need to. He was afraid of what'd they ask for in return.

She smiled. "Pi," she nodded bravely, pushing herself up.

"I should have stopped after the first match," Ash berated himself, rubbing her ears. "I shouldn't have battled at all."

Pikachu patted his arm and shook her head no. He ignored her motion.

"Shan?" a call came with a careful tapping.

He pushed himself up. "You can come in, Shamin."

The door was opened carefully, and a white-haired familiar face smiled. "Can I too?"

Ash sighed. "Of course."

Shamin rudely pushed Miriam in. "Everyone's talking about the battles!" she gushed. "You really impressed them."

Ash made a disgusted face. "I shouldn't have done them. It put Pikachu in danger."

Miriam rolled her eyes. "Give it up, Shanny. Ya didn't have a choice, in any case. Besides, Rodent didn't do so bad." She tapped Pikachu's head in a mild pet.

"Pika!" Pikachu smiled under her hand. Miriam rarely gave her compliments that were sincere.

"We were thinking of going to a Congrats Dinner. We'll pay." Shamin grinned evilly.

"I'll bet," Ash smiled back.

"Rodent can even come along," Miriam added happily.

Ash smiled, looking at Pikachu, who was leaping up and down with excitement at the prospect of leaving the Tunnels. He ran a hand through his hair, then made a face at the greasiness of it. "Look, I'll meet you. I really need to clean up."

Miriam leaned over to him, a worried frown on her face. She took a sniff. "Blondie, ya definitely aren't one of our men. They don't shower til they peel paint."

"We're going to the deli on the corner of Riverside and Jonas," Shamin smiled, picking Pikachu up and holding her close like a large teddy bear. "How long you gonna take?"

He thought about it. "Ten minutes about, for a shower and stuff."

Miriam's eyes lit up in horror. "Ten minutes? A _ten-minute_ shower?" Ash tried to get out that he wasn't going to in the shower _that_ long, but Miriam continued her prattle. "Oh, Lordy, I might pass out from shock!" Ash smiled at her, then tossed Shamin his pack.

"For Pikachu."

"See ya in twenty, then, Blondie," Miriam sighed. "And don't be late. Can't guarantee how long the food'll be there." She gripped Shamin's elbow when the younger's mouth opened. "Come on, Hon. He don't need any help workin' the soap." Shamin blushed up to her ears.

Ash watched as they left, unsure of the private message the girls shared. After the door closed, he peeled off his shirt and headed for the showers. He _really_ needed one.

****

"Hey, kid!" a voice yelled behind him just as Ash was preparing to turn down the last section. He was desperately trying to remember how to get out through Riverside Avenue before anyone could see him, but his memory wasn't working.

Ash turned quickly to see the familiar "R" lettering on the front of the shirt. "What do you want?" he demanded, gritting his teeth.

The older man, a limehead, wrapped an arm unconcerned around Ash's shoulders. "Wonderful battling, I must say, today." The smile seemed forced and fake.

"Thank you," Ash responded after a minute, manners getting the best of him. "What do you want, now?"

"Just to talk. Walk with me." His arm tightened around Ash's neck and he started to walk the younger trainer.

Ash choked and pushed away, less than efficiently freeing himself. "I'm sorry, but I have to get somewhere."

"This won't take a moment."

"Sorry. I can't be late."

The Rocket-er slammed his hand against the wall, blocking Ash's way. "Listen, Kid, you don't walk away from a meeting like this."

Ash felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise, and slowly he turned around to see other Rocket members come from the shadows. "What's going on?" he demanded, a lot braver than he felt.

"You're a great Trainer," a voice said from the crowd. Ash couldn't find the owner.

"So?" he snapped as they formed their horseshoe ring around him.

"Well, we wantcha to join Us."

Ash recoiled instantly against the words. "No way."

"Listen, Shan, you don't have much of a choice," sneered a familiar voice.

Ash's eyes searched for the owner, finding Johnny and his little personal clique slowly detangling himself from the mob. "What are you doing here?"

Johnny ignored the question. "You're joining them, Shan."

"Yeah right. I'm not joining them, no matter what."

A hand was pressed up against his chest, gripping the shirt fabric, and Ash felt his feet leaving the floor. "We said you didn't have a choice," Craig growled. "You caused us a lot of trouble in your twisted little way." His eyes danced with an emotion, and Craig was just waiting for the order.

"What are you talking about?" Ash hissed.

"DON'T play STUPID!" Craig ordered, slamming Ash up against the wall with each word. Ash saw stars dance around in his brain, and he didn't want to cry out, but he might have murmured a wordless (not soundless, mind you) cry.

The crowd started up their own jeers, and Craig, seeing everyone was with him (or whatever), continued to effectively bang Ash against the wall. "Put him down, gentlemen. This is no way to approach someone we wish to join our group. We're giving him a terrible impression."

Ash was instantly dropped, and his knees hit the floor hard and his head roaring from pain. His back felt sticky wet, and Ash struggled not to think of what it probably was as he sneered up at Giovanni, the mob parting. "Too late for that, Gym Leader." He spat the title out like a curse.

He smiled momentarily. "So you know of me."

Ash's lip curled. "I'm not joining anything of yours."

Giovanni's eyes showed no emotion as he petted the Persian. "You really don't have much of a choice. We can break you."

"You're welcome to try!" Ash snapped without thinking, pushing himself up with shaky arms. "I'll never join up with your lot, and I'm not going to be worth the danger I could put you're little organization in." Ash figured he had something there. Nothing was worse than a loose cannon.

"We can break you," the leader repeated monotonously. "You wouldn't be the first we've had to 'entice', Shan, is it? We've gotten others, and they put up a lot more fight than you will. Yes, you have a great deal of Spirit, but we _can_ break you." Giovanni's corners of his lips twitched.

"Will you join?"

"No."

"Then we will break you." Giovanni raised his hand, watching Ash's apprehensive expression with a private delight, and his fingers snapped.

The bodies leaped at Ash as one, members of the Tunnels with Rocket-ers, attacking and beating like demons. Ash could only recall hitting the floor after a jab (more like three, actually) to the stomach and getting kicked right in the face before blacking out.

****

He moaned.

"He's waking up!"

"Already?" A grim sigh. "Just keep him settled."

Painfully Ash separated an eye (the other had no chance of opening) that didn't want to separate. A sickening sea of colors and blurs attacked his brain. He blinked rapidly, but it did nothing to help his nausea. In fact, it seemed to make it worse.

"Hey, Blondie?" asked a timid voice.

Ash licked his dry, cracked lips, trying to bring the face into focus. "Miriam?" he guessed haphazardly.

She smiled bravely. "Ya all right? Ya had a nasty fall down them stairs."

"Stairs?"

"Five flights," Miriam nodded.

"I—I didn't fall down any stairs," he protested weakly. "Team Rocket—"

"They found ya and brought ya here. Been out over a day. Shamin's been real worried." Miriam looked at him, at the severely bruised face—a multitude of colors. The nose was nearly broken, and right now the kid did not look much like a Prince Charming that Miriam would wish for. "She took off a few hours ago cuz she really needs some sleep, but otherwise she's been here the whole time, Kid." She said it importantly.

Ash struggled to push himself up, uncaring that Shamin had kept an unasked-for vigil over him but not so much of the pain that snapped his stiff muscles and ribs. "No, no, they—they beat me up!"

"Who did, Blondie?"

"Team—" He coughed and sputtered.

Miriam laughed, trying to push him back down. "Don't be daft."

He didn't go down, gripping her arm. His chest started to hurt as he breathed, and his breath was in gasps. "They did! They want—want me to join them! I gotta get out!"

"Hold it! Ya ain't going nowhere!" Miriam ordered, holding him down.

"I gotta!" he screeched. "Pikachu! Where's Pikachu?" If Team Rocket—Giovanni had her . . .

"Shamin's got her, Kid. Don't worry. I tole ya they're sleepin'. Now lay down!"

"I–!"

"NO!"

He struggled against her, adrenaline pumping. "I gotta!

"Ya can leave after ya're better! Ya can do yar journey!"

"No!" Tears streamed down his face as he struggled futilely against her, mixing with dried blood and newly opened wounds. "I have to go NOW!"

"Dennis! Give him a bloody tranquilizer! Giovanni ordered him put!" Miriam yelled, holding him down with her whole body. The "Gym Leader", as Blondie had called him, had said it _personal_ once he had found out about the patient. He even got some decent meds for the kid, something the Tunnels severely lacked in. Miriam figured Ash must have _really_ impressed him with the battling stuff, but the man's name only made the invalid struggle harder.

Ash barely felt the prick in his arm, but the effect was instantaneous as the liquid was shot home. Tears streamed down his face. "I gotta go," he repeated, eyes heavy.

"It's okay, kid," Miriam murmured, patting his arm. He rolled away slightly, curling into a ball.

"I wanna go home," he wailed in a whisper. "I want my Mom!" The eyes were closing, and all Ash could remember was a tall willow and protective arms that could kiss away all problems. Even the room where the man could talk his way out of anything shifted into his thoughts. "I want my —" He didn't finish the statement, drugs taking their effect.

Miriam ran her hand along his shoulder, rolling him back unto his back. "That must have been some fall," Dennis muttered, turning back to his work in the room over.

"Must have," she agreed, biting her lip as she looked at his damp face. Carefully she started to dry it, and something started to gnaw at the back of her little-used conscience.


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter Five:**To Protect and Kidnap

"There ain't no way he's moving, Sir," Johnny said with a forced smile. Why was he always the one _volunteered_ for this? Why was it his job to make sure this guy was happy? If George was still around, he could have done it; he liked it, he liked this guy! But George disappeared months ago, after the last Rocket business over here . . . not that the dork would actually join this pack of nuts. God, an Onix killed his mom right in front of his face. George won't have anything to do with Pokémon. Of that, Johnny was pretty sure . . . well, decently sure. He'd put money down, albeit only a nickel the more he thought about it. "Not with all them drugs in his system."

Giovanni nodded, seemingly uninterested as he gave the child his complete attention. He said nothing, and the silence welled up around the office.

Like any inexperienced deliverer, Johnny tried to fill it up. "When are you taking him?" _When are you leaving_?

"Soon. Where is his Pikachu?"

"One of the girls been watching it for him, Shamin. She's taking a liking to the kid, I'd wager. Miriam too. They know he doesn't want to leave, but they also know he'll be leaving soon anyway to continue his 'training'." Johnny made the worst face he dared in the presence of Giovanni. "I can say he left for that when he disappears. She'll buy it, and Miriam won't be bothered."

Giovanni nodded again. For once supervising the trip over here had been worth it. Usually he ended up having to train idiots who were afraid of Pokémon. Sometimes Giovanni wondered why he even bothered keeping the place open for these riff-raff, but then remembered that it was a very nice way to pick up cheap help. Well, this time he had found a Trainer, a good Trainer who'd rival some of his top officials. He nodded again, smiling. The boy would be good.

"Purr," Persian purred.

****

Ash could feel himself being moved carefully, picked up into a set of arms, in the back of his semi-comatose state. Part of him wanted to wake up, but the other part, the stronger part (thanks to the drugs) left him without any motivation other than to simply take what would happen without compliant. His very nature fought against the order, but there was no way he could win for but a moment.

"Grab the Pikachu."

"Pi-KA!"

"Ei! It's gonna _SHOCK_ _ME_!"

"Shh! _Quiet_!"

"Don't shock ME! We're helping him!

"Pikachu?"

The stealthy footsteps did not jostle him, like the carrier was actually concerned about his well being. They were slow and purposeful, and even though each step did give him a jolt, it was not nearly as bad as it could have been.

Maybe they did not travel far, or maybe Ash had drifted into a deeper realm of unconsciousness again, but soon he was being set down. There was a light paw on his side, and even without looking Ash could tell it was Pikachu.

"Pikapi."

"Do you think we should have?"

"Shut up and cover him up."

"All I'm saying is—"

"I know what you're saying! He'll be fine right here. No one'll find him. Everyone'll think he left, especially with his Pikachu and bag gone as well."

"How? He's all doped up."

A voice snorted. "Listen, he joins, he'll be one of the top after all the _persuasion_ they'll give him. Do you really want to go down a step?"

"I thought we already were pretty low, except for that one pair over in Indigo or some place. Boss put them down as janitorial, I think. That could have been us, except we finally got a good swipe." The Trainer smiled happily, immensely pleased with the turn of luck their team had received. Over the past few years, it was no great secret in Team Rocket that they were probably one of the worst teams. They rivaled another bumbling set over in some wussy town area for the worst. Yet, as it turned out, a little over a year ago their luck changed, and they moved up with surprising speed. They weren't bad criminals or Pokémon users, but they always managed to go up against really good Trainers, ones that were better than them. But, as it turned out, with all that Training, they were now better than at least a quarter of Team Rocket. And they owed it all to a one—

"If we go down any lower, that _will_ be _us_!"

"EEE! You're kidding? We just got on his good side!"

"No, I'm not! He can stay here until the tranquilizers work out of his system. And, if he's smart, he'll take off."

Ash rolled his head slightly and struggled to open his good (or not-so-good) eye. It opened a sliver and he looked up.

"You?" he whispered, barely audible.

The two faces looked down startled at him, but he fell back into his torpor before they could say anything.

****

"What do you mean he _disappeared_?"

It would have been better if Giovanni had yelled. Team Rocket knew how to act properly when someone yelled at them. But Giovanni had merely asked it like he was wondering whose turn it was to put out the Persian. They looked at each other in a worry.

"He's gone, Sir," one said lamely.

Giovanni brought his hands up to his face, making it seem like he was praying. "Might I ask _how_?" Again he accented the last word, making it so the underlings just had to hear the last word to actually know the question.

"We, uh, don't exactly know. Yet."

"Wasn't anyone _watching_ him?"

Again they all looked at each other. They figured that one didn't have to watch a vegetable with both eyes. A locked door should have sufficed.

"No, Sir," someone muttered.

Giovanni didn't bother to ask why as he leaned back in the chair. "Find him. That shouldn't be too difficult for you."

****

Shamin slammed her bag down hard, swearing words a rare person heard her say. Miriam glanced up momentarily from her magazine, a sympathetic look on her face. "Careful. Ya'll knock down my pictures."

Her eyes narrowed as her head snapped over to her roommate. "You know where he is, don't you?"

"No, I don't," Miriam said lightly, turning a page.

"How can you be so calm?" Shamin demanded, plopping onto her bed and staring at the ceiling. There was a poster of a relatively cute model taped to it. When she had been younger (she had stolen it from a store), she had always hoped the tape would give way, but, being as she was stupid, Shamin had used a very strong tape.

"How can ya be so worked up? Ya knew he was goin' to leave."

"You think he just took off last night?" she said incredulously, rolling onto her stomach. Miriam shrugged. "Get realistic."

"Ya should say 'get real'. Easier to say."

"Don't change the subject! Shan couldn't have left. You saw him!"

"He's a tough kid. Probably wasn't as bad off as we thought."

"Come on! He couldn't have rolled out of bed!" As if to prove her point, Shamin did roll out of bed and landed cat-like on the floor.

Miriam looked down at her from her magazine, and then sighed. "Shamin, are ya just sayin' this stuff cuz ya don't want to believe the other way?"

Shamin's face turned red. "Miriam!"

"Well?"

"That's not the point! The point is he couldn't have!" She paused, then added, "And he wouldn't have. He would have said good-bye."

"Guys are like that, Hon. Get used to it," Miriam advised, returning back to her magazine.

"Shan isn't!"

"Ya ever hear the sayin' 'Love is blind'? Ya should have, cuz ya're their poster model. Face it, he pulled the wool over yar eyes. All men are alike."

Shamin pressed her lips together and leaped up. "He did it to you too!"

Miriam followed the roommate with her eyes, noting dimly that the girl grabbed a half-filled pack, and not even wincing when the door was slammed shut. (Most Tunnel residents kept a pack filled in case the Police should ever raid the place; it was common and sensible practice.) "That he did," she agreed quietly, once she was sure Shamin wouldn't hear.

She tried to continue reading, Miriam really did. She had learned a long time ago to let things run their course, and not to get worked up about it, but finally she muttered, "Bugger this." She gripped her pack and took off after Shamin, who, since she knew the girl so well, was probably going off to a train station or something stupid and impetuous like that.

****

"Pikachu!" Pikachu yelped as Ash rolled over suddenly. Then she wrinkled her nose and turned away, allowing her Trainer to retch in semi-privacy. Once the noises stopped, she touched his arm lightly. "Pikapi?"

Ash wiped the corner of his mouth with his fist, heedless of the pain it caused. "Where are we, Pikachu?" His arms were shaking when he leaned against them.

She gesticulated wildly to try and tell him, and he nodded, although not understanding. Pikachu wasn't worried, so Ash found no reason for him to be as of yet. Finally, seeing that Ash wasn't looking so much for an answer, mainly because his mind wouldn't register it, but the tone, Pikachu stopped and smiled happily. "Pika chu chu pikachu!"

"Uh-huh," he nodded dumbly, leaning up against a wall. "Look, we have got to get out of here," he got out after a few false starts. "The train or something. It'd be stupid if I tried to walk out of town, huh?"

Pikachu nodded, looking at the green under the blue-black-purple. "Chu, pikachu!" she said, a light bulb going off in her brain.

"Wait! No!" Ash yelped, making an ill-aimed grab for her, not wanting her to leave him. He watched as the mouse leaped out the door and his sight. "***!" Then he proceeded to be sick again, even though the last time he must have emptied out his stomach. As he said before, life could seriously _suck_.

****

"Ya're gonna fall in."

Shamin snapped her head sharply at the déjà vu statement. Seeing that it was only Miriam, her gaze went back to her heels that she was banging against the blocks. "What do you want?"

Miriam leaped up next to her, ignoring the glares people gave them. One learned to do that after awhile. "I said ya're gonna fall in, Hon." _Just as long as ya don't jump_.

"Will not."

"Ya will if I push ya." Miriam gauged the reaction. "Ya weren't at the station."

Shamin snorted. "I told you I'm not stupid," she said darkly. Miriam waited for the punch line. "I wouldn't even know what train he'd get on."

Pleased that she wasn't disappointed, Miriam smiled. "Of course." She turned her head to look at the water. "So what are ya doin' here? Semi-mental value?"

"It's called sentimental."

"Toe-mate-toe, toe-mot-toe," she breezed, shrugging. "Ya know, he probably would have said bye if he hadn't fallen down them stairs."

Shamin was quiet. "You really think he fell down? I mean, really? And don't say Johnny said he did, cuz Johnny lies through his teeth if it serves him enough."

"Johnny? _No!_" Miriam said sarcastically. "Look, Kiddo, ya believe what they tell ya so ya don't have to face the blunt reality of it all. Ya learn that."

"I don't buy the _National Liar_ to read it, Miriam," Shamin sighed.

They were both quiet for a moment, each with different reasons.

"So now whatcha gonna do?" Miriam finally asked. "I mean, face it, either way that the ball was bounced, Blondie's gone."

Shamin looked blankly ahead of her. "I know," she agreed quietly.

Again they fell into silence.

"Come on. Let's head back," Miriam sighed.

"It's not late."

"So? We can still head back. Who knows? Maybe Blondie came back." _Although I highly doubt it_.

"You think he would?" Shamin asked hopefully.

"He might, or maybe Rodent," she half-lied as she leaped down. "But we ain't gonna find out stayin' here."

Shamin nodded her agreement as she too slid down. "I hope he came back, Miriam."

"Of course you do. Let's go."

****

"He didn't come back," Shamin wailed, sliding down the wall. "You said he would."

"I said he _might_," Miriam corrected off-handedly as she shut the door. "The whole place is lookin' for him." She remembered the looks Johnny had given them, and she knew he wanted to question either one or both of them. Lucky, the *** could read facial expressions and found he'd get nothing helpful from them. He especially found out when Shamin questioned him, didn't care for the answer, and almost kicked him in the shin. Almost, except she had _really_ bad aim and kicked a _wee_ bit higher. In Miriam's opinion, it wasn't high enough.

"You'd think we could find him then," Shamin muttered.

"Well, with that attitude it's no wonder."

"No wonder _what_?"

Miriam rolled her eyes. "Never mind. Just grow up, all right." Shamin made a disgruntled face, but nodded in any case, as it was the easiest thing to do. "I gotta change."

"Why—" Miriam screaming cut her off, and Shamin leaped up. "What's wrong?"

The older woman whirled on her, clutching a bunch of clothes. "Look at my bloody clothes! They're ruined!" Shamin looked at her blankly.

"They got ketchup on them! Look!" The clothes were shoved in her face for inspection.

"Only little drops," Shamin said lightly, looking at the five drops that were on the clothes. Miriam tended to over-react on some things. "And it looks like it's been licked off." She thought about what she just said.

Miriam was unconvinced. "Ya know how much work I went into _stealin'_ these! I mean, goin' from store to store to find which one had the highest prices—"

"Pikachu likes ketchup," Shamin said slowly, touching a drop.

"And then—oh." Miriam stopped when the statement hit her head, and she looked at the drops suspiciously. "These were clean when I put them away, just so ya know."

Shamin's eyes brightened. "Pikachu!" she called, running over to the dresser and throwing out the clothes.

"Hey, hey, hey! I just folded and ironed and whatevered those this morning!" Miriam yelped, dragging the younger away from her side of the dresser. "If ya're gonna do that, then do it proper. Don't mess up my clothes."

"Pikachu, you in there?" Shamin asked, ignoring Miriam's request, banging on the side.

"Ya should call quieter, Kid," Miriam suggested as she looked under the bed. "Lucky no one responds to screams here." She made a half-smile.

"Where are ya, Rodent?"

"You _sure_ those spots are fresh?" Shamin called from the bathroom.

"Yes I am!" She inspected the interior of Shamin's guitar, then strummed the strings.

"Pikachu?"

"Ya know, Rodent might not be in here. Could have taken off," she mused.

"PIKACHU!"

"Ya shouldn't yell for the Rodent, either."

"I'm not yelling," Shamin said, puzzled, re-entering the room.

Miriam looked up from the strings. "Then—? " She suddenly started laughing.

"What?" Shamin demanded hotly, hands on her lips.

With a smirk Miriam pointed a finger at the opposite wall. "Turn around."

Annoyed, Shamin did so, but then her face split into a grin. "Pikachu!"

Pikachu waved from the vent near the ceiling, the cover hanging by one screw. It was how she managed to get around the Tunnels for all these months and amuse herself. What, do you actually think she stayed in Ash's room like a _good_ little Pokémon? Well, if you put it that way . . .

"Pika!" she smiled, leaping down into the welcoming arms.

Shamin hugged her tightly. "Hey there! Where's Shan?"

The mouse pointed importantly in a direction, then leaped down and chatted in her language that neither of the girls understood.

Miriam snapped her fingers. "Lil' Timmy fell down the well again!" Both Shamin and Pikachu gave her a look. "Hey, it was a thought. I don't see _ya_ comin' up with any ideas."

Shamin pressed her lips together. "You can take us to Shan, right, so we can say bye?" Pikachu nodded.

"Then lead the way, Rodent," Miriam sighed, standing up and grabbing her bag to allow Pikachu to leap into it. "Hi-HO!"

The green-haired girl did the same, except she grabbed her guitar as an after-thought.

"Why are you bringing that thing?"

"So I can beat Shan over the head with it for taking off without telling me."

"Ah. Why didn't _I_ think of that?" In order not to look too suspicious with just Shamin leaving with her guitar, Miriam grabbed her crappy sax, one she had swiped from some bum (and he had deserved it, with those advances he made). That way, should anyone ask, they could claim they were playing the street for change. Forethought was important.

****

Ash stood impatiently (in a different room, because the former smelled of vomit) waiting for Pikachu. She shouldn't have run off. Cornflower was dangerous for a lone Pokémon.

He stretched his arms to loosen the tightened muscles and examine the bruises. Deep blue-purple-black-is-that-green? Looked at him, covering nearly every square inch of skin he had available. Ash shook his head, his neck stretching painfully, figuring that he'd have to change his short-sleeved shirt to a long-sleeved one so no one would stare at him, at least at his arms. Carefully he touched his nose. His face would have to go as is, though.

After excavating a dark turtleneck, Ash crossed his arms and grabbed the base of his shirt. Exhaling, he quickly brought his arms and shirt up, gritting his teeth and hissing as his body loathed the action. There was a brief but intense struggle for dominance, and finally Ash managed to pull of the shirt from his head. He tossed the shirt into his pack and grabbed the fresh shirt.

He took a deep breath again.

"Why don'tcha take the _rest_ off?"

Ash whirled around, painfully cracking his back in the process. "_Miriam_?" His voice was slightly hoarse from lack of use.

"And me!" Shamin added, pushing Miriam out of the way. She stopped to look at Ash fully, and stared for almost a full minute before finally saying (after Miriam poked her), "Ouch."

He made a face, then regretted the action. "I know. How'd you get here?" As an after thought, he added, "And where's here, anyway?"

"Rodent here led us," Miriam smiled, tilting her head so Pikachu could leap onto her shoulder and wave at Ash.

Ash visibly sighed with relief. "You're okay."

"Of course we are."

"He means Rodent, Hon."

Shamin looked visibly—well, to most of them—disappointed. "Oh." Then her face hardened as Ash took Pikachu away from Miriam. "You should have said good-bye to us, and not have jut taken off."

"I didn't take off. I was taken off," Ash said simply. Pikachu nodded her agreement.

"Pardon?" Miriam asked.

"Someone brought me here," he explained, twisting his shirt in his hands as he struggled to remember. "Whenever. A redhead and a bluehead. I . . . don't think I know them." He sounded unsure, but nodded anyway as he spoke.

"Everyone's looking for you," Shamin informed him.

Ash snorted, preparing to put the shirt on. "Let them. I'm outta here. No way I'm working for Team Rocket," he said from somewhere in the fabric.

"Ah, shit." The last statement was a mutter.

"Need some help?" Miriam smiled grabbing the hem and jerking it down hard. His head shot painfully up from the hole, and she proceeded to fold over the collar while he whimpered ever-so-quietly over the new pain in his nose. "So where ya goin'?"

"I—"

"I heard there's an abandon lab a couple towns over," Shamin interrupted suddenly. "They—the town and stuff, I suppose—kicked the professor out."

"C—"

Miriam nodded, stepping back to admire her work on the collar. "I heard that too. Ya goin' head there, Blondie?"

Ash waited a moment before answering, in case anyone else decided to interrupt. "I think I should, to get a Pokédex and my Pokémon from a Professor I know." He looked at them sheepishly. "And could someone help me get my arms through the sleeves? They're kinda stuck."

The two girls looked at him and then each other, then proceeded to laugh. "I think we'll keep it as is," Shamin chuckled. "It has a _very_ slimming effect." Ash made a face at her, but still ended up on the lesser end of the deal since the action made his face hurt.

****

"Ya're gonna do _what_?!" Miriam demanded loudly.

"I'm going to buy a ticket!" Ash repeated even louder.

Miriam raised her hands to emphasize her question. "Why?"

"Because—"

"No, why not just hop on board? I mean why _buy_ a ticket?"

"So I don't get thrown off," Ash said simply, starting to walk past her. He was stopped abruptly when Miriam gripped his collar.

"Haven't we taught ya anything?"

"You said it yourself, Miriam. He's too honest," Shamin said disapprovingly, raising her nose at him teasingly.

"And this is a bad thing how?" he questioned, rubbing his neck to get the blood flowing. Miriam had a better grip than Misty ever had.

Miriam shook her head. "Shan, ya seen yarself? No, ya haven't. Listen to us on this. _No_ one is gonna give someone who looks like ya do a ticket. Ya look like ya're a troublemaker, or some runways kid whose parents beat ya. Then ya'll just get the cops. Besides, ya don't think Team Rocket's not gonna be watchin' the ticket booths? _Think_, Blondie."

Ash actually paused, touching his face, then conceded that she was right. "Well, it's not like they're not going to be looking for stowaways."

"Do you actually know where this lab is?" Shamin asked boldly, a smile on her face. "You don't, do you?"

"No," he said finally. Hey, he didn't even know if it actually _existed_.

She twirled her guitar, pleased with her results. "How do you plan to find the place?"

"Well, there's records, and all I'd have to do is look the place up on the Internet. What?" He questioned Shamin's face.

Miriam shook her head. "What Shamin is tryin' to subtly ask ya is if she can come along?"

"Am not!"

She ignored the interruption. "Anyway—Yar train preparing to leave, just so ya know. All ya do is slip carefully in one of the last boxes, hmm?"

Ash rolled his eyes. "Thanks for advice." He looked at the ticket booth. "Maybe I will for this town. And it's been nice knowing you guys. Thanks for your help."

"Good-bye?" Shamin whined.

"See ya, Blondie," Miriam smiled. "Rodent."

"Chu!" Pikachu responded from within the pack.

"Aren't you gonna get lonely or something?" Shamin demanded. "Even with Pikachu?"

Ash blinked. "I'll live."

"Well, me and Miriam can come along! I wanna try this training too. It looks like fun."

"What about me?" Miriam questioned sharply.

He looked at her skeptically, as if debating what kind of trainer she could be just by her appearance. "It's work, too."

"Stealing's work, and that's fun," Shamin pointed out.

"For you," Ash countered.

"Excuse me, did I hear _ya_ invite _me_ along?" Miriam demanded.

Shamin looked at her disapproving. "Oh, you've wanted to leave the Tunnels for months. She wants to be an actress or something like that," she informed Ash with a nod. "And you're not getting any closer staying in the Tunnels. Come on, Miriam!"

Miriam shook her head, more out of thought than actually answering. "I don't know."

Ash looked at the train. "Better hurry. Train's almost ready." He was kind of hopeful at the prospect of having traveling companions, but he wouldn't let on.

She crossed her arms. "Do either of ya even know how to board a train without gettin' caught?" They shook their heads mutely. "Well,"—her eyes looked thoughtful—"I think maybe for the time. But I ain't raisin' no rodents." She rubbed her hands together. "Now, the train . . . _is_ _MOVIN'_!"


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter Six:**Letters To, Stories Of

Ash chewed on the cap of the pen in deep thought, Pikachu looking over his shoulder—actually not, she had crawled under his arm—at the words he had written. She couldn't read what the letter actually said, but Pikachu could hear Ash quietly dictating the letter to himself. Those ears did come in handy at times.

He seemed stumped, for he had been chewing on the plastic for a long time now, and Pikachu settled herself onto a blanket, making a small nest. Once she deemed it satisfactory at present, the mouse looked around the tiny room, a closet actually. The smell made her nose tingle. The room wasn't cramped, lucky, so Pikapi, Shamin, Miriam, and her could sleep comfortably. Above her on the shelves containers were stacked (some a bit dangerously, for one had fallen on Pikapi's head when he had slumped to the floor), and each was labeled.

Pikachu sighed and evaluated her present predicament. Right now, Pikapi and her were now traveling with the two girls/women (Pikachu was unsure on that point), Shamin and Miriam. She dearly would have loved to shock Miriam every time the woman called her "Rodent," but Pikachu knew her Pikapi wouldn't approve. (Of course, the mouse mused, he didn't like it when she shocked him . . .) But, other than that, Pikachu had no great reason to dislike the two traveling companions. Pikapi also enjoyed their company.

She looked up fondly at her Trainer, who was still seriously considering what he was going to write. Even now, after so many months, Pikachu couldn't decide if she liked his new hair color. It was lighter than her own yellow fur, and, although it didn't look _that_ bad on him, Pikachu still wasn't sure if it worked for him.

Pikachu was quite content with their current life-style. They were together, and Pikapi seemed, for the most part, happy. For Pikachu, as long as they were together, she would remain content. Of course, that didn't mean she didn't want to return to Ziganka or Pallet. She did, but she wouldn't leave Pikapi's side like that. He needed her, and she needed him.

He moved his head slightly at a rustling, saw that it was nothing, and looked down at her. He smiled warmly down at her, and she smiled back.

"Chu, pikachu?"

"Almost," he sighed, scratching her ears. "Almost." He shifted himself against his bag, leaning back even more. It was hard to write a letter that said absolutely nothing about where he was, what he was doing, or who he was with, to just write a letter of reasonable length that said he was all right.

He didn't dare bring into mention about Team Rocket or Giovanni, although he knew he should. But that was a threat to his secrecy, something he could not afford to do, unless as a last resort. His conscience bit him though, for he knew he _should_.

Pikachu's ears pricked at the sound of footsteps, and, after a moment of reflection, relaxed and gave Ash no warning. There was a smile on her features as she leaped up to a shelf.

The door was thrown open, and Ash, without a thought, quickly tried to hide under the covers. He peeked out when he heard laughter.

"That was seriously not funny, Miriam!" he scolded, letting the blanket fall to his shoulders.

She shut the door carefully and looked down. "Ya weren't the one who was watchin', right, Rodent?" Miriam smiled as Pikachu slid down.

"Hungry?"

"You bet!" Ash laughed, leaping forward. Miriam teasingly moved the bag out of his grasp, and when he stood up to grab it, she raised the bags higher still. God, she loved being tall. "Miriam!"

"Don't be a baby, Blondie," she said making a mocking face, still holding the bag up over her head.

"What's the magic word?"

Ash gritted his teeth, hating it when she played these games. "Abra kadabra!" he said nastily.

"Those are Pokémon," she said wisely, poking his nose. "What's the _real_ magic word?"

"_Please_!"

"Good _boy_," Miriam purred, sounding like she was congratulating a Growlithe. She even patted his head, taking great pleasure in wounding his pride.

"Come on, Miriam," he pouted, crossing his arms and stomping his foot.

"Are ya gonna hold yar breath, too?"

"Would it work?"

She grinned as she brought the bag down. "Nope. Here, got ya a sub. And that actually got _paid_ for." He looked at her skeptically as he took the sandwich.

"Uh huh?"

"Yep. I made sure to put the order on the guy in front of me! Just had to grab and dash!"

Ash rolled his eyes as he settled back down. "Where's Shamin?"

Miriam waved her hand as she too settled down again. "Around. Don't ya know?" He shook his head as he took a big bite, the lettuce spilling out.

"Pikachu!" Pikachu complained, also wanting something to dine on. Miriam made a face at her.

"Ya can forage, Rodent."

Pikachu narrowed her eyes. "Pika—" she started warningly.

"Oh, shut up," Miriam sighed impatiently, reaching into the bag. "Have some fries. And ketchup."

"How many places did you go to?" Ash asked once he swallowed.

"Excuse me, but I ain't eatin' Shamin's Roadkill Café, yar Vegetarian Delight, or Rodent here's Who-Cares-What-It-Is-So-Long-As-It's-Got-Ketchup-With-It."

Ash looked under the bread. "I've got ham on this, so it's not vegetarian," he countered. "What'd you get then?"

"Somethin' with lots of grease on and in it," she smiled, revealing a burger. "These I stole, just so ya know. Yar's was the only one that got paid for. Does that make ya happy?"

He didn't respond to her baiting. Miriam sighed sadly and leaned against the wall, petting Pikachu off-handedly. With her keen eyes, it didn't take her long to spy the paper Ash had been writing on. It now lay forgotten against a shelf. "What's this?" she asked, grabbing it before Ash could protest.

"Give it back, Miriam!" he ordered making an ill-fated grab for it.

Using her legs as a blockade, Miriam peered at the writing. "'Dear . . .Mom'?" She looked at him dumbfounded, and allowed him to grab the letter back. "Writin' home?"

"Trying," he spat. "Doesn't personal and private mean _anything _to you?"

Miriam rocked back and forth. "Nope." Her green eyes went over Ash, studying him critically. The bruises were almost gone after these few weeks. They'd had to travel less that what any would have liked because of his discomfort (not that he'd admit it) and the fact that Team Rocket was looking for them, a strange thing in truth. She had never been actually chased by people that had money enough to hire detectives, point a gun on you, made news stations say you were crazy and placed a reward for your live capture, or had really well-trained Pokémon for it. Miriam was impressed that Blondie could avoid all these tactics, stating he had had practice, although, he admitted, not nearly as difficult. He still limped a bit even now, that would vanish soon enough as well, and they could travel faster. "Call me crazy, Shan, I but figured ya were just another runaway."

Ash didn't meet her gaze, feigning that he was studying his letter. Pikachu paused to look at him, wondering how he'd answer. Ash's conscious bit him because of her statement and the use of his alias. He really should tell them his name wasn't actually Shan, but neither Miriam nor Shamin called him it enough for him to ever feel the need to bring it up. "Really?"

She nodded. "Ya never talk about them."

"Neither do you," he countered.

"Hmm." She was quiet. "What are they like, yar folks?"

Ash shrugged, tears striking his eyes, and he turned slightly so she wouldn't see them. "They're all right. Just parents, like most people's, I guess."

"Most people's," Miriam repeated quietly, then waited for him to continue. He was quiet. "Well, how were they?"

Again he shrugged. "My mom was, well, a mom. Always worried about me. Told me to change my 'you-know-what's' right in front of my friends. Could cook really good. I lived with her most of my life, up until a little over a year. Then I went with my dad. I didn't have problems with my mom or anything," he said quickly, seriously struggling to keep his voice perfectly neutral. "Dad was okay. Liked to joke and do family things. Except with his ideas about grades, he would have been great." Ash made a small smile and wished Miriam would look away so he could wipe his eyes.

Miriam nodded. "Sounds like a good family, if ya ask me."

He nodded, and they were quiet for a few minutes. Then Ash decided turnabout was fair play. "What about yours?"

This time Miriam shrugged. "Probably dead or in prison by now," she said with false lightness.

"What? Why?"

Miriam smiled crookedly at him. "Not everyone comes from happy-dappy families, Blondie. Not everyone gets their own room, or own clothes, or whatever. And not everyone gets the privilege of makin' sure their own parents don't choke on their own vomit. Guess which one of them lucky privileges I had."

Ash didn't answer, looking at her with soft eyes.

Again she shrugged and smiled. "Ya know, I can tell most liquors just by their . . . fragrance. An acquired gift, I assure ya. I can tell ya, or at least could, I don't know now, who the best suppliers were in town. Ya end up livin' in a run-down apartment where bums usually crash, and ya don't matter to yar folks after a while. Or ya matter, but not 24-7. Ya don't dare head off to school in case some *** teacher spies an unworthy trait that would require a conference, and ya can't not go to school. Ya're torn between protectin' them and yarself. Ya think they'll clean up soon enough, that they won't do whatever they did again. Course, they don't. And ya can only take so much before ya get out a there for good, for yar own protection." She shook her head, resting her chin on her knees. Her voice never wavered or cracked, like she was just reciting a TV show.

"When did you leave?" Ash asked slowly. He didn't want to hear any details that Miriam probably lived through.

"Nine, ten, eleven. Somewhere around there, I guess. Can't remember." Ash could tell that she was lying, but he didn't bring it up. She probably left earlier.

"Chuka?" Pikachu asked tentatively. Miriam had been given that name, like Ash had "Pikapi". Shamin was addressed as "Chupi". Miriam smiled down at the mouse, petting her ears.

"Ya kinda wonder about them, but after a while they all drift away into Oblivion." Ash knew he was lying. He could never, ever forget about his parents, and he doubted if Miriam could either. But again he did not contradict her.

They were quiet, each eating their respective meals. Miriam looked at the tip of her boots.

"So yar folks just let ya take off to do this trainin'?"

"Once you're ten," Ash said quietly, not actually answering the question.

"I didn't think they did stuff like that over here," she said shrewdly.

Ash shrugged. "I started training when I was with my mom, and started to pick it back up again."

She nodded. "Where'd ya get Rodent? Catch her?"

"No, a Pokémon professor gives you your first Pokémon, one of three. It depends on where you live on which different group of Pokémon you get. Professor Oak gave away a Squirtle, a Charmander, or a Bulbasaur, but over in Johto they give new trainers a Totodile, a Cyndaquil, or a Chikorita. Each is either a Water, Fire, or Grass type respectively."

Miriam looked at him blankly. "Oh." Then she looked at Pikachu. "Well, Rodent here isn't Fire or Grass or Water. Is she?"

Ash made a sheepish grin. "I kinda slept in the day I was supposed to get a Pokémon, and the professor already gave away the other three by the time I arrived. He let me get a Pikachu though."

She studied him. "Why does that scenario not surprise me, Blondie?" He shrugged. "So they give ya these things for free?"

He nodded. "There's a whole bunch of rules that deal with winning and losing, and where you can capture Pokémon, and stuff, but most of the Leagues don't charge fees when you battle."

"I was born on the wrong side of the world," Miriam said sadly, rolling her eyes.

Ash smiled at her, crumbling up his wrapper into a small ball and placing it in the bag.

"Which one would you have taken?"

"Same one as Shamin, probably."

That interested him. "And that would be?"

"The cutest one." Miriam grinned deviously as he shook his head sadly. "And speaking of which, where _is_ she?"

"Around."

They locked eyes and grinned. Miriam yawned. "Well, I've got to get some shut-eye, or I'm gonna be a grouch."

"When aren't you?" Ash teased, curling under his sleeping bag.

"Don't blame me if ya wake up with gum in yar hair or somethin'," she responded, closing her eyes.

"Uh-huh."

"I mean it."

"Good night, Miriam. Night, Pikachu."

"Chu, Pikapi, Chuka."

Miriam sighed, then obediently completed the ring. "Night, Blondie, Rodent."

****

Ash gasped at someone kicked him none-too-gently in the side. "Get up!" the voice hissed.

"Ahh! What'd you do that for?" he demanded, clutching his side.

"_SHH_!" three voices said simultaneously.

"Damn it, ya sleep like a rock!"

"Log, Miriam," Shamin corrected.

"Ya can use either. Now get up, Blondie. We got to get out!"

Ash pushed himself up in the dark, trying to see his friends. "What's going on?" he hissed, shoving his bag into his pack sloppily.

"We're getting surrounded, that's what's wrong," Miriam said darkly. "Bloody cops and the dog things."

"Growlithe?"

"Who cares?" Shamin snapped. "We can take the sky-light. It's how we got in."

"Like they won't expect that," Ash muttered, but was silenced when Shamin kicked him.

"Give me a boost!"

He gritted his teeth and hoisted her up. She stepped on his shoulders and head to get higher up, and he tried not to complain as his shoulder blades were dislocated. It was easier just to fall in, or to take the door like Miriam had after getting their supper. Shamin fumbled with the lock, and Ash was relieved when her weight was off him with a slight push-off from his head. "Come on, Miriam. Take my pack and Pikachu."

"Yes, Sir," she muttered. "It's not like I'm not holdin' anythin' already." Even with all her complaining, she gripped his pack with her teeth and allowed Pikachu to stand on her hair. Ash made another cup with his hands and hefted her up. Thankfully Miriam did not have to use his head as a stool. She worn high-heeled boots, something Ash was not willing to have shoved into his brain. Despite the differences in height and age, Miriam and Shamin weighed about the same.

"Got you, Pikachu," Shamin whispered.

"Chupi!"

Miriam muttered something savagely through the fabric.

"Right, Miriam. Ready, UP!"

Ash looked up at the two faces looking down at him. "Design flaw in this plan," he muttered, seeing that there was no one left to hive him a boost.

"Umm, how are you gonna get up?" Shamin called.

He looked at her savagely. "I planned to release a Spinarak and climb up using its thread."

"Really? You got on of those? Are they cute?"

Miriam banged her on the back of the head. "Learn sarcasm, Hon!"

"Didn't have to hit me."

"Damn, ya're even denser than Blondie!"

"Am not!"

"Hello!" Ash hissed, looking back at the door fearfully. "A little help here!"

"Pikapi!" Pikachu called, worried, ready to jump down.

"Hold up! You stay up here!" Shamin ordered, grabbing the mouse. "Can't you climb on the shelves?"

"They barely hold the containers that are already on them! Throw down a rope!"

"You throw up one!"

"We don't have one, Blondie!"

"Use a sleeping bag!" Ash said quickly.

The heads disappeared, and soon a wide piece of cloth was thrown down. Ash leaped up, managing to grab the hem, but his fingers couldn't keep a good grip.

"Unzip it so I have more fabric!" he said hurriedly, turning his head and believing he could hear footsteps coming his way.

"Gee, you're bossy!" Shamin snapped, but the sleeping bag went back up. It came down quick enough. "Happy?"

Ash didn't replied, starting up. The bag gave him slack, occasionally going down a few inches, but he quickly made it up.

"Blondie, lose _weight_!" Miriam snapped as he hoisted himself over the ledge. "Dammit, ya're heavy!"

"You're out of shape!" he countered, shutting the window.

"I'll out of shape ya!" Shamin gripped her friend's arm, and Miriam calmed down.

"Look at this shape, huh? This is a good shape, huh?" Her voice was oozing the idea that if Ash _dared_ contradict he'd be back in the room with a powerful kick to the groin.

"Come on, let's get out of here," Ash said, dashing over to the ledge. Then he made a face. "Who chose this building?"

"Why?" Shamin asked.

"Can you swim?"

"Is this a trick question?"

"Well, either we cut through the line of cops, or we swim," Ash stated, looking at the three.

"The water doesn't look that cold," Shamin said.

"Water doesn't ever look cold, Hon," Miriam sighed. "Come on. It's only a few stories down."

"How deep do you suppose the water is?" Ash asked.

"Deep." Miriam jumped, holding her pack in her hands.

"Deep." With a smile, Shamin jumped after her.

Ash and Pikachu watched them hit the water, a tad surprised. They bobbed back up safely, and Ash looked at Pikachu, gripping his pack. "I really hope my flute case is water-proof, Pikachu."

"Pikachu."

"Ready?" They both jumped. The water stung Ash, causing his clothes and hair to stick to him, and he kicked himself up to the surface. "Cold, cold!"

Miriam laughed, backstroking away. "Come on!"

"You know, I'm gonna miss that guitar," Shamin sighed, following her lead.

Miriam laughed, already a distance ahead and heading for the bridge. "Yeah right. 'Bout as much as I'm gonna miss that hunk of junk metal!"

Ash treaded water, looking at his pack sheepishly. Pikachu mouse-paddled her way over, not looking too happy with their present happenings. "Pika."

"I know. You can ride on my head, if you like." She needed no second offer, leaping instantly.

"Come on, Shan!" Shamin yelled, almost to the bridge. Miriam was already wringing out her clothes.

"Should have just slept under the bridge in the first place," he muttered, moving off. It took him a few minutes to get to the bridge, and he emerged shivering. Miriam decided to press her advantage, and shoved him back in. Pikachu managed to leap to safety, and all three of them laughed at his predicament. He brought himself closer again, face red and teeth chattering. Miriam smiled and extended her hand down to him, and he took it warily. She was kind and did nothing to him this time. "N-now wh-what-t?" his teeth chatted.

"It's almost mornin', so might as well head out," Miriam sighed, throwing back her wet hair, which effectively stung his face, and walking off. "Out of shape, huh? What do ya think of my shape now?"

Ash was in no mood as he walked alongside her, trying to get the water out of his clothes and hair as he let him mouth go on insulting automatic. "It looks it needs to be remolded so the large amount of hot air that has built up in the top can escape from the frickin' vacuum on the inside! And maybe glue shut the large hole on what it considers as its face that keeps opening and closing like a bloody Goldeen out of water!"

****

Shamin and Pikachu were doubled over in laugher and left profoundly in the dust while Miriam and Ash ran ahead, each with their own distinct purpose for their action.

One was to simply remain alive for an extra five seconds.

Gee, wonder whose motivation _that_ one was?


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter Seven:**Abandon Labs

The door creaked open slowly.

"I _tole_ you I could do it," Shamin said triumphantly, handing Miriam back her hairpin.

"I still say we coulda kicked it in easier. Or used one of yar heads, both of them are thick enough. We been standin' out here over an hour!" Miriam retorted, walking in. "Eeww, dust!" She batted away the cobwebs. "Can someone get a light!"

Ash flicked the switch. "No power," he muttered.

"Well, can't ya use Rodent?" Miriam demanded.

"We'd need a generator or something to keep the power going to the lights," he said calmly, wiping a window clean with his hand. A stream of light came in. "Well just have to use the light from the windows."

Miriam made a face. "Ya clean 'em. I'll . . . supervise." She sat carefully on a chair after blowing away the dust, although she would have preferred to just use Ash's coat that she had just stolen, as Shamin usually used his and he was too much of a gentleman to ask for it back. Of course, Miriam didn't tell him exactly how she had come across it, knowing for a fact that he'd have thrown a fit. It was easier just to say she found it in the church donation box instead of on a church pew next to someone. Miriam didn't hold to the belief that the inside of the church was any less of a place to commit an act of sin (or survival, depending on the point of view). Better to do it right in front of God or whomever instead of behind his (or her, as Miriam believed) back, she figured. Showed you weren't putting on an act in order to get the best seats in Nirvana or Heaven or Utopia or _wherever_.

Shamin sighed, tapping the computer keys in an interested air. "I bet we could get this working."

"Aren't either of you gonna help me clean?" Ash demanded, cleaning the windows with his hand to lighten the whole place up. He looked disgusted at the dirt stuck to the skin, then wiped it on his jeans.

"Cleanin' is men's work," Miriam smiled, placing her feet up atop the computer console. Shamin tried to push them off, but failed.

"Well, at least you're helping me . . ." He looked around wildly. "Pikachu?" She was sitting on Miriam's lap. "Traitor."

Pikachu smiled evilly. "Chuka ka Pikapi pikachu pika."

"Miriam also says the sun sets in the East!" he snapped back.

"Doesn't it?" she asked innocently.

"The West, Miriam, the _West_."

"I'll take yar word for it." She petted Pikachu. "Is he always this cranky when he has to clean?"

"Pi."

"Must have been a terror to get him to clean his room. I bet his _mom_ did it."

Ash went over to Shamin, stubbornly deciding that if he was going to be the only one to clean up he wasn't going to, placed his hands on her shoulders to steady himself, and leaned over to look at the screen. "How do you think we could get this thing running?"

She was blushing and didn't quite hear the question.

"Why do ya even need the computer?" Miriam asked. "Does it have solitaire on it?"

He looked at her. "If we can get it running, we can use it to link over and get the rest of my Pokémon."

"Ya got a lot?"

Ash shrugged, looking back at the computer intently. "A few. What do you guys think?"

Shamin tried to keep her focus. "I bet there's a main power switch thingy we could pull. They still got lines coming here, so we should be able to get some power. Connection'll probably be as slow as heck, though." She grinned.

"We'll live. Where'd the switch be?"

"Basement?" she guessed. "Hope you can find it." Ash rolled his eyes.

****

"How about now?" Ash called, then sneezed.

"Nope. Are ya sure ya're at the right box?"

"It's the only one that's connected to the power cord," he sighed, rubbing his irritated nose. The dust was making his eyes water something fierce. He pushed another switch up with the heel of his palm.

"Nope, nope, nope. Hey, wait-wait-wait! We got something! It's, it's, um . . . Pong!" Miriam laughed. "Ya can come up now."

Carefully he closed the box and headed up the stairs, not too surprised to see the other three staring at the screen as Shamin tried to keep the ball bouncing.

"Go! GO! GO! Left! No, right!"

"Pi! Pi!"

Shamin was clearly flustered. "I know what I'm doing! Shut UP!"

Ash looked at the screen, and then at the players, not seeing why the game was so interesting. "Hello? Can we actually—"

"Ahh!" Shamin exclaimed, cutting him off when the ball missed the platform.

"My turn!" Miriam pushed the younger out of the chair roughly and settled behind the seat, cracking her fingers and looking over the keyboard. "Now . . . where's the start button?"

Shamin looked up innocently from the floor. "Don't you know?"

"Don't be a sore loser. Now where—"

"Excuse me," Ash said loudly. "Can we get back to the whole reason we turned this thing on?"

Miriam leaned against her hand and looked at him critically. "Well, Blondie, do _ya_ even know how to connect with yar Professor friend?"

Ash opened his mouth to say that of course he did, then paused. Actually, now that he thought about it, he wasn't 100% sure as to how Professor Oak had sent him his Pokémon. The professor had always done it manually after Ash had called, but there was an automatic system in case Professor Oak was out of town. "Not exactly," he admitted reluctantly. Then he looked at them with a sly smile. "But surely a thief could break in?"

"Now you want us to steal?" Shamin teased, eyes sparkling.

"You're not stealing. They're mine."

Miriam looked at her nails, a trait Ash now knew she did when she was, heaven forbid, thinking about something. He grew a bit worried, because Miriam always seemed to be able to question the one question he never wanted to answer, even when she had no idea of the question was. She didn't disappoint him.

"Now, clear this up for me, Blondie. But I've actually done thinkin' on this for some time." Shamin let out a low whistle, and Pikachu fell over in mock surprise. Miriam ignored both actions.

"Now, this professor guy, he has yar Pokémon because of this thingy that says ya're only supposed to carry around six of the little devils, right?"

Ash nodded, leaning against the counter. It took Miriam a while to get to the point when she went on like this, because she wanted to make sure she got all the details right.

"And ya're supposed to have this Dexter thingy so ya can train and stuff legally. Train and capture and compete in the battle things, not own or breed or whatnot, right?" Again he nodded, really worried as to where this was going to end up.

"So, ya've already done some trainin' and capturin', and ya don't have this red mini-Poképedia thingy now?" Ash opened his mouth to explain, a rather stupid thing to do because he had nothing to say in his defense. Miriam cut him off with a last question. "_And_, if this professor was the one who has yar Pokémon, why don'tcha just call him and ask them to send them over?"

Silently berating himself for ever telling Miriam all the rules—how was he supposed to know she was _actually_ paying attention?—Ash carefully thought about his answer while Shamin and Miriam waited for his answer. Pikachu looked worriedly at her Trainer, curious to know if the proverbial jig was up.

"Well," he started, blowing his bangs out of his eyes. They seemed to be the only part of his hair that grew, for the back was still as short as it had been when he had left. They listened intently, just waiting for his excuse. Shamin seemed to have picked up the notion that this actually was an important question, that they had seemingly caught him, Mr. Conscious-Loyalty-All-That-Crap, in a trap.

"Well," he repeated. "When I moved in with my dad, I gave the Professor back my Pokédex because, well, you don't train over here. And, well, I decided to restart-up my training over here, and you need to get a new Pokédex. And, well, the professor who has my Pokémon is, well, out of town." _God, that was so lame. How many more "wells" could I have slipped in?_

Ash figured he really had to work on lying.

"I kinda figured that there'd be a professor here that could get me a new one, and get my Pokémon here," Ash finished quickly.

They both nodded. Of course, Shamin looked like she believed it, but Miriam was still studying him, debating on whether or not she found truth in his explanation. In either case, she didn't continue her questions, looking back at the computer. "Well, I don't know anything 'bout computers or hackin'." Her fingertips tapped a few keys.

Shamin shrugged. "I can sometimes get it so the ATM gives me a few twenties, but not too often. But I probably know more than Miriam." She grinned. "Of course, _mold_ knows more than she does."

"Only about some things, Kiddo," Miriam said back. "Although computers are not my specialty, I'll admit." She twirled on the chair. "So ya two will have to figure this one out on yar own, I guess."

Ash nodded, stroking his chin thoughtfully. _Man, I _knew_ should have paid more attention in those damn computer courses._

****

"The . . . whatchamacallit's connected the . . . dohicky. The dohicky's connected to this . . . thingamabob. The thingamabob's connected to the . . . whateveritis," Ash chatted from under the Pokéball transport.

"Very scientific," Shamin chuckled, tapping the keys.

Ash pushed himself out from under the narrow space. "Hey, do I look like a mechanic here?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?" Shamin asked horridly, twirling in the swivel chair.

"Cuz you have a nasty smudge of oil or something across your face."

He made a face, pushing himself up, unconcerned about his dirty hands and face.

"Well, I think I've got this thing running anyway. All I have to do is check . . . again."

"Are you sure it won't blow up?"

Ash's face reddened. "It didn't explode. Sparks just flew off it."

"And smoke."

"It turned off before the fire actually started."

Shamin looked at him sadly, shaking her head. Then her eyes went towards the floor.

"Aren't those pieces supposed to be in the machine?"

"They're leftovers," Ash said shrugging. "I can't figure out where they go."

"You don't get _leftovers_ in machines, Shan. Supper, yes. Computer thingies . . . no."

"I can't figure out where they go, though," he repeated simply, grabbing a rag he had found and wiping his hands on it.

"Why didn't you remember?"

"Excuse me, but I had that whole thing apart. You think you could remember where every knot and bolt went? I don't think so, especially if you can't remember where you put your shoes. Remember yesterday? You were looking all around for your shoes, and you had them on your feet already?" He grinned at the memory.

Shamin chose not to continue into that area if he was going to use those tactics, looking sheepishly down at her shoes. She'd probably never hear the end of _that_ one. "Well, if you _did_ get the thing to work, I'm thinking I'm almost done here."

Ash went over quickly to look at the computer skeptically. He was terribly surprised when he actually saw files of Professor Oak's staring back at him. "Whoa. How'd you . . .?"

"He's connected to the Internet," Shamin stated, rolling her eyes. "I mean, if you're on the Net, _anyone_ can hack into your personal files."

Needless to say, Ash looked at her in a new light, exceedingly impressed. "And you actually know how to do this?"

"Of course. I watched Genevieve go it all the time at the Tunnels. I mean, _she_ can hack into _anything_. Course, I don't actually know I'm _doing_, but I can do it through trial and error."

"I'm still impressed," he said, leaning forward and staring at the screen. He _was_ impressed, considering how flaky he thought Shamin was.

She blushed at the comment, shifting her attention between him and the screen. "You should be." Her fingers flew over the screen, bringing up a new screen with a list of names. "I'm thinking this is it, the transfer screen. What do you think?"

Ash shrugged. "I suppose. I've never actually been at this end of the transfer." He paused for a moment. "You sure no one on the computer would see this happening? So they don't cancel it or whatever they do?"

Shamin looked at him a moment, then shrugged. "Well, this is on the other side of the world we're talking about. They should be asleep, less they're night owls. But since he's not home, we shouldn't have a problem with him canceling the connection."

_Hope the professor isn't a night owl_, Ash thought, wincing at what he was actually doing. "When do you think we could start transferring the Pokémon?" _The faster we start, the faster we get done._

She pressed her lips together tightly, moving the mouse to bring up a new window. "Umm . . . when I figure out how to get the thing to work," Shamin admitted glumly, but then brightened. "But I did figure out how to create them Poképedias you mentioned." She stood up on her chair to get a grip on a drawer, which opened in a cloud of dust, causing her to sneeze as it filtered down.

"They're called Pokédexs," Ash smiled, somehow again impressed as he crossed his arms to lean against the console, watching her try to reach into the drawer that was too high for her.

"Same difference," she grunted. "Could you like get me a book to stand on or something? I know they're in here."

He didn't budge. "What's in there?"

"The Poképed—dexes," she corrected herself. "The guy that was here had the inventory on his computer, and didn't bother taking the stuff with him, don't ask me why."

"Cuz they chased him out of town." She grunted her agreement.

"Didn't I ask you do help me?" Shamin asked sharply, looking down at him. He grinned up at her.

"I know I did because you're grinning like that."

He blew his bangs out of his eyes with an unturned lip, still smirking. "Am I?"

"You're so annoying! Hey, wait, wait, I got em!" Standing on the very tip-tip of her shoes, Shamin gripped the smooth plastic with her fingertips and pulled them out, waving the four at him.

"See, I told you they were up here! I—whoa, whoa . . .!"

Ash could barely blink when Shamin came hurling towards him, knocking both of them to the ground. His head and entire backside hit the tiles hard.

Shamin pushed herself up sheepishly, pushing herself up slightly and laying his stomach and chest. "Thanks for breaking my fall."

"Don't mention it," he muttered.

She held her head in her hands, elbows on his shoulders. "I will. Those tiles must be really hard."

"They are," he nodded, rubbing the back of his head.

"I mean, if I had fallen on them, you know how easily I bruise."

His eyes shot open in surprise, and he saw Shamin's smirking face above his. "Oh, ha."

Her grin widened, and she waved the Pokédexes in front of him. "But look what I got."

His lips twitched into a smile, eyes following the red boxes hungrily. They were a bit out-dated, but they looked like they'd do. "Have I ever told you how much I love you?"

Shamin blinked in surprise, blushing. "Um . . . no."

He grabbed the Pokédexes, not noticing Shamin's response, and fanned them out in front of his face. "Prefect. We can almost head out."

"W-what?"

Ash looked past the Pokédexes at her. "Once we get these set up, and my Pokémon, we can start _training_." His eyes were sparkling. "And then go to some leagues. Maybe even win!"

She nodded. "Oh." She bit her bottom lip in thought, resting her head against her fist. "Like what leagues?"

Ash shrugged, or did as close to a shrug as he could. "Well, I could try the Indigo League again. And there has to be other leagues around here."

"But what—"

"Am I interruptin' somethin'?" asked a teasing voice.

"Pika?"

Shamin sat back on Ash's stomach quickly, her head snapping up, cheeks very red. Ash merely leaned his head back to see Miriam upside-down, Pikachu on her shoulder.

"Hey, Miriam! What'd ya get us to eat?"

"Are ya sure ya wouldn't rather have a cigarette?" she smiled, walking closer to look down. Ash looked up at her, puzzled, while Shamin sent the woman daggers.

"You know I don't smoke." He held up the Pokédexes. "Shamin found the Pokédexes, and I think I've got the transport working." Pikachu leaped down next to his head. "Pretty soon we'll see all our old friends, huh Pikachu?"

"Pi!"

Miriam tilted her head, eyes shifting between the two teenagers. "Might I ask 'bout the position?" Her finger wavered between the two, and Pikachu also looked critically at them.

"I fell when I was getting the Pokédexes," Shamin said quickly, still as red and getting redder from the implying word choice Miriam was using.

Ash nodded, pushing himself up, still as dense as ever. "And I ended up breaking her fall. So what's for lunch?"

Again Miriam's eyes looked between the two: Shamin's beet-red face and Ash's innocent expression as Shamin got off him. Then she sighed, digging into the bag. "Ya should carry around protection, Blondie," she said, handing him a sandwich. Shamin's cheeks literally puffed out at the implication, and Miriam tossed a sandwich at her face. Miriam could see the younger was willingly to commit murder at the moment.

He held his sandwich, looking at her disapprovingly as she sat down and started to eat her own meal. "Excuse me, but I just went over this with Shamin. There isn't any way that it's going to explode!"

Miriam choked on her bread, Pikachu looked at her Trainer in surprise, and Shamin's head snapped up to look between the two, a look of horror and amusement on her face. Ash continued, giving Miriam a perplexed look as she swallowed her near-death-causing meal.

"I mean, okay, so there's a few pieces left over and stuff, but I'm positive that the transport isn't—what?"

Miriam literally doubled-over where she sat laughing so hard, and even Pikachu and Shamin were laughing. "Oh my, ya had me goin', Blondie!" she managed to get out, shaking her head and clutching her side.

"What's so funny?" Ash demanded hotly. "It won't!"

Biting her pinky nail, Miriam was still snickering, finding vast amusement in his innocence. "Blondie, ya're like thirteen, right?" He nodded, seriously wondering where this was going. "And haven't ya felt any _changes_?"

He blinked in surprise, and then red literally started to creep up into his cheeks and ears. He looked like a thermometer on the rise. Ash already knew the facts of life—had known for sometime, thanks to schooling and little _talks_ with his father. It was one thing that Ash was relieved that his father had talked about and not his mom. His face felt even hotter at the thought of his mom trying to talk about . . . _it_. Ash also knew how some guys acted, having traveled with Brock for so long. Now Miriam was talking about . . . it, and she most _certainly_ knew about the three-letter-word and a certain male anatomical part. "_Miriam_!" he hissed through his embarrassment.

Miriam's eyes lit up with even more amusement. "Now, Blondie, rethink yar past conversation, positions, and actions," she said deviously. Even Shamin and Pikachu were being entertained, Shamin because Miriam's evil ways weren't focused on her, for once, and Pikachu because it was just so damn funny.

Ash did as told, and, if at all possible, grew even redder as he slowly pieced together Miriam's viewpoint and mind-set. His ears felt like they were being burned off. " . . . Oh. . .," he croaked.

And, when the three females started laughing, all he wanted was for the Earth to swallow him up whole and never spit him out again.

****

Ash hurriedly clicked his name, then watched as the transfer bar changed red.

"Would ya listen to this?" Miriam said conversationally, leaning against the Pokéball transfer and reading the paper. "Them hackers got into some bank and swiped half the money." She let out a low whistle. "Ya think ya could—"

"No," Ash said curtly. "We are _not_ robbing banks."

"But it's perfect!" Miriam countered. "They've been doin' it for weeks. Must be really rich. Why not?"

"Cuz you got to be good, Miriam, which I'm not. I can't hack into government files," Shamin sighed.

"Banks are government?"

Shamin shrugged. "Whatever. This was personal stuff, easy pickings."

Miriam grunted. "Still would—God ALMIGHTY!" She leaped away from the machine as it sparked on. "It's alive!"

"It's transferring," Ash stated calmly.

"It's not gonna 'explode', is it?" Miriam teased, and Ash responded by turning red and pretending he hadn't heard. She walked closer, watching as a Pokéball appeared. She picked it up. "What's this?"

"A Pokéball," Ash explained. "It holds the Pokémon inside."

Miriam snorted. "Yeah right. Maybe a little bug thing, but Rodent couldn't fit in here." She put it next to Pikachu as if to compare the difference in size to make her point.

"Could so. Remember the Golem that Pikachu battled? That was in a Pokéball."

Shamin picked up the next Pokéball, and then the next. "It must be scientific, Miriam."

Settling down the ball, Miriam watched as the other red-and-white orbs started to roll down.

"Weird." With her verdict stated, Miriam turned around and left.

"She just doesn't understand," Shamin stated encouragingly. "You got a lot of them though."

Pikachu jumped up and down. "Pikachu chu pikachu pika!"

Ash suddenly blinked at her statement. "Oh, god, you're right! I'm going to get all my Tauros!"

"So?" Shamin asked quizzically.

"I have a whole herd!"

Shamin shrugged, walking over to the computer. "Who cares?"

He forced a grin. "You'll see what I mean. What are you doing?"

"The Pokédexes. We have to get them loaded up, right. Might as well do it now."

Ash nodded his agreement, leaning over to look at the computer. He didn't touch Shamin, though. Then he blinked, seeing what she had typed. "You're making one for yourself?"

"Got a problem with that?" He shook his head. "I want to try this." Carefully, she finished typing everything about her, or what she cared to write or make-up, then clicked the download button. "I wonder if Miriam would want one."

"I'll ask." Ash's eyes shifted towards the transfer machine. "Just watch the Pokéballs so they don't get backed up."

Shamin looked like something suddenly entered her mind, but nodded anyway.

"Pikachu, watch her," Ash sighed.

"Pi, Pikapi."

With that, Ash started out, going out into the hall. Dust-cleared footprints were everywhere, showing that they had already walked down his hall many times already, but he could hear music coming, so there was no question as to where Miriam was. Ash entered the room, "Hey . . . Miriam?"

The music was even louder in the room, and Miriam was dancing, rather well, Ash admitted. Instead of having her stop, he watched her, waiting until she had finally noticed him at the end of the song. "B-Blondie," she got out, forcing a grin. "How long ya been there?"

He looked at her nastily. "Long enough." Ash found he couldn't be as mean as Miriam was, letting what he saw leave the conversation. "Look, we were just wondering if you'd like a Pokédex too. Do you?"

Miriam shrugged. "I don't plan to battle."

"But you might."

She rolled her eyes. "Just make me one. Might come in handy. Prop up a wobbly chair or somethin'."

Ash grinned. "Y—"

"Pikapi!" Pikachu called, running into the room. "Chupi pika pikachu pika pikachu chu!"

"Shamin fell down the well!" Miriam stated, only understanding the names in the whole sentence.

"What's Shamin doing!" Ash demanded, running past, not even waiting for the answer. Miriam followed, and both skidded to a halt once they reached the lab. Pokéballs were literally everywhere. "Shamin!"

Shamin raised her hands like they had pulled a gun on her, dropping all the Pokéballs she had in them. Luckily the Pokéball level was near her knees and the balls did not release their Pokémon. "Okay, before you say _anything_, let me just say that this is not how I planned it!"

"What did ya plan! To make a swimming pool?" Miriam demanded, almost sliding on one of the balls as she stepped forward to help control the flow coming from the machine.

"No! I just figured we might ste—_borrow_ some Pokémon—" Shamin stopped at Ash's glare, then went on to Plan 2. (Honesty never worked for her.) "It was all Pikachu's fault!" she yelled, pointing at the mouse.

"Chupi!"


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter Eight:**Once Burned, Twice Shy

"If you hadn't over-loaded the circuits," Ash started under his breath, shaking his head as he sat in the long grass.

Shamin overheard him and snapped, "Hey, I said I was sorry!"

He ignored her. "All those trainers! Professor Oak must have gone nuts!"

"They're getting set back."

He actually started to talk to her now.

"By mail! I mean, stealing money's _one_ thing, but _that?_ Don't you have _any_ standards!"

"Oh, give it up!"

"No! I mean it!—"

Miriam held her head, walking away from the repeated argument and into the forest, hoping that they'd have cooled off by the time she came back. He refused to let the topic drop as they walked on, and it was almost three days ago. Blondie had real morals on Pokémon. One was you did not steal them. The idiot had even gone as far to gather up all the Pokémon that weren't his—and _that_ had been a devil of a job—and make Miriam write the oh-I'm-sorry-we-took-the-Pokémon-we-mistook-you-for-a-bank-some-Pokémon-ran-away-while-we-were-hiding letter, pretending that they were the hackers, as Shamin couldn't spell and the professor knew Blondie's handwriting.

Actually, Miriam thought it was funny. *** funny, but she didn't want the Ash mad at her as well. She knew that was his name, too, and not Shan. Miriam was not stupid, not one bit, and she'd had a lot of hunches.

One was the missing posters. Some days when they went into town, they'd come across those posters that display runaways, kidnappings, or whatever. Miriam wasn't surprised that her picture was never up there. Shamin's was, although seriously out-dated. Ash always stopped and looked at them. Once Miriam saw him slip a paper in his pocket, and, when he was asleep, Miriam sneaked a peak at it. The resemblance was too much to be a coincidence, something Miriam did not believe in anyway.

There had been a reward stated, and it had seriously tempted her to call in and get the money, screw friendship and her conscience. She could deal with herself in the morning, with all that money to comfort her . . . But Miriam found she couldn't, even for all that money. Blondie was rubbing off on her, *** him. *** him to freakin' Hell.

Two, she had once opened one of his letters home out of curiosity, wondering if he wrote about her or Shamin, and could plainly see—well, almost, because his handwriting wasn't the clearest—that his name was Ash and not Shan.

Miriam did not take offense that he lied to her, not like Shamin probably would. Miriam was used to lies, and it was clear to her that Ash was not used to giving them. This was new to him, and the way he spoke of home it was obviously he wouldn't mind going back that much. But you couldn't force someone back, not someone who had determination like Ash had. It was futile, and it'd do more hurt than good to him. They have to go home on their own. Miriam knew she didn't want someone dragging _her_ back.

And he'd go back, of that Miriam was sure, once he got finished with his battles. How long could that take anyway?

(She still didn't know _everything_ about Pokémon.)

Throwing back her head and running her fingers through her hair, Miriam looked up at the darkening sky. It was clear, some of the brighter stars coming out. She smiled, walking while looking up.

She should have been watching where she was going, really. If she had been, Miriam wouldn't have stepped off the edge of the ravine edge and ended up rolling down a hill to a puddle.

"Yeeew!" she groaned, flinging her hands to remove the slime that was stuck to them. "My clothes!" She sat down heavily in the watery muck, instantly regretting the action as her butt got wetter.

"Yuck, ew, gag, yuck, gross, ewwww!" Miriam spat out every word she knew to describe disgusting as she stood up, her high-heeled boots sank in. She whimpered helplessly, trudging out of the gloop.

"Now I know why I don't hike! My clothes." She was near tears, remembering the exact circumstances in which each was stolen.

Miriam looked up at the crevice in which she had fallen, deciding there was no way she could climb up that, because it'd ruin her clothes even more. So, instead, sinking a bit with each step, Miriam walked on, pitying herself. There was no way in Hell she was going to call for help, though. No, siree.

It was totally dark within a few minutes, and her wet clothes made her shiver. "Life sucks, life sucks!" she sang operatically under her breath. "Sucks, sucks, sucks, sucks."

By nature, Miriam was not a jumpy person. Also by nature and practice, she was a night person, so the shadows that played with her mind gave her no such fears that it might give another. She merely walked, unconcerned with anything but her clothes and hair.

****

She walked simply by placing one gooey foot in front of the other, and she knew that she'd eventually hit dry land. Worry did not radiate off her, and Miriam did not cry over her predicament. Crying got you nowhere in life, she had learned. Although she cried a bit about her clothes, that did not last long. She finally did leave the swampy forest and enter a meadow. Hours had past, and Miriam could see a small fire made by her companions a good distance away. Sighing, she started to walk.

As stated before, Miriam was not a jumpy person, and the darkness gave her no fear. So, as she walked, when her keen ears picked up a soft noise, she was not in the remotest corner of the world frightened. At first Miriam did her best to ignore it, but it was always there, insistent but quiet. It was like a whine, and Miriam did not care for whiners because whiners were the bane of existence. She continued to trek, but the noise bothered her even more as she tried to ignore it.

She knew she past the source some time ago, but it was still loud in her ears. Finally Miriam gritted her teeth and turned on her heel, ready to kick whatever was making that blasted noise like a football over or in or round or whatever the goal stick or whatever the frick the stupid goal-thingy was called.

"All right, where are ya?" she snapped, looking at the ground and kicking the grass with her boot.

She tried to trace the sound to its source, but, when she did, she couldn't see the source from the ground it laid on. In fact, she ended up kicking it, and it ended up planting its teeth on her boot. Luckily, it was a very weak bite and she wore thick boots.

"Hey! Hey, that's leather!" she screeched, trying to get her foot out of the little mouth. "Give me back my boot!"

A growl escaped the creature, and Miriam suddenly saw that her boot was both free and on fire. With a yelp, she quickly started to bang her foot against the other to extinguish the flames.

"That was my boot, whatever pyromaniac thing ya are! I have a good mind to kill ya now!"

A growl was her answer, and Miriam squinted her eyes to look at the little devil.

It was small, only a tad bigger that Rodent was, and very dirty. The eyes were a terrible red color just from the reflected moonlight. In fact, the light reflected a bit of metal too, and Miriam's heart instantly melted.

"Aww, ya poor thing," she cooed, bending down. "Ya're stuck in a trap, huh?" It answered her with a growl. Miriam frowned at it, slowly removing her coat. No way she was leaving something in trouble, even if it did ruin her boots. "All right, stay calm," she murmured, holding her coat out. Then she leaped, throwing the coat over the little creature. Within a second though, Miriam jumped back, her coat gone in flames.

Something had hit the ground, and Miriam jumped when a beeping noise sounded, followed by a jagged computer voice.

"Ninetales, the fox Pokémon. The evolved form of Vulpix, this Pokémon can be very dangerous to approach when wounded. It is best to use fire-proof nets and clothing when capturing."

"That's for the warnin'," Miriam snapped, picking the Pokédex up and shoving it in her pocket. "Didn't like the coat anyway," she sighed, sitting down to look at the Ninetales. "A Pokémon. Woo hoo, go figure."

The Ninetales growled at her, angry at the attack she had just given it.

"Look, ya want out of that trap, huh?" Miriam demanded. Much to her surprise, the Ninetales' growls quieted. _Hmm, they understood English pretty well_, she thought. "Then I suggest ya be nice to me, or I'll leave ya, capeesh?" No answer. "**Capeesh**?"

"Nine," the creature said reluctantly.

She really did not like the tone, but Miriam approached the Pokémon in any case. "Now, don't ya dare burn me, Pyro, but this is gonna hurt. Gettin' yar paw in one of these always does." Carefully she gripped the handle and squeezed, and the Ninetales quickly freed its front paw.

"There ya go."

The Ninetales stood up shakily, trying to place the paw down. It whined piteously, and collapsed.

"Poor Pyro," Miriam sighed, already dubbing the Pokémon. "I bet Blondie has something for that paw, if ya come along. Ya're gonna too, cuz he'd kill me if I left ya got here with a broken paw or whatever ya got."

The Ninetales growled when she advanced, and even went as far as releasing a ball of fire of her, but its heart wasn't in it. Its paw really hurt, and it curled up in the woman's arms, willing to fall asleep as she muttered something about her hair.

****

Ash gasped as someone kicked him in the side. It was Miriam's preferred way of waking him up, and he sat up with a gasp and start. "Miriam!" he complained, looking up at her in the dim light. He blinked in shock. "What happened to you?"

"I went for a swim," she said sarcastically. "I need yar help with somethin'."

He yawned. "What?"

"This." She bent down, and showed him the sleeping Pyro. "I found it in a trap. Its paw's hurt. Ya can do somethin', right?"

His eyes were wide. "Whoa, a Ninetales! You know how rare and hard to capture these are!"

"Oh, shut up with the shop talk. Can ya help it or not?"

Ash looked at it carefully. It was still sleeping, and he was surprised at how small it was. It was no bigger than a Vulpix, even smaller, when it should be double the size. He touched its paw carefully, and suddenly tiny teeth snapped down on his hand. He would have screamed if Miriam hadn't slammed her hand across his mouth.

"_Shh!_ Ya'll scare it!"

"He _bit_ me!" Ash replied through gritted teeth, retrieving his bleeding hand. His own action of drawing back to escape had made the gouges even longer and deeper, so now streams of blood were literally flowing down his arm.

"Yar own fault! Now bandage its paw!"

Ash turned clutching his hand. He dug in his back for a medical kit, something they had taken from the abandon lab. He quickly bandaged his own hand before turning on the Pokémon. "You make sure it doesn't bite me again."

Miriam nodded, hearing Pyro growl loudly. Actually, she didn't plan to do anything except watch. After all, she liked a good show as well as the next sadist.

****

After "Nurse Ash" was finished, he used up an entire tube of severe burn cream and several rolls of wrapping while Miriam cuddled the Ninetales.

"Ya need a bath." She saw Ash give her a look and he put on a new shirt. His last one was now just ashes. "We both do."

"It's so cute, Miriam!" Shamin cooed, running a hand over the creature. She and Pikachu had woken up during the doctoring. And, of course, neither had decided to help.

"It's a he, just so you know, Miriam," Ash said, kneeling down. He brought his wounded hand—which was attached to his heavily wounded arm—up to pet it, but the fox growled dangerously, and Ash brought it back with a frown. "Hey, I helped you too."

"He doesn't like Mr. Trainer," Shamin teased, pushing him playfully. He winced from the burns.

"Oh, the poor baby got burned really bad, didn't he?"

"Shut up."

"He's cute," Miriam smiled, making a baby face at the fox. "Yes, he is. Pyro really is, isn't he?"

"Pyro?" Shamin asked.

"It's his name, because he burned my boot and coat."

"And me," Ash put in quietly, petting Pikachu, the only one who was giving him any kind of sympathy.

"Well, he's doesn't like ya. Well-known fact that women are more tolerated by animals than m—_boys_," Miriam said slyly, and Ash looked at her savagely. "And we're gonna go get cleaned up, right, Pyro?"

It was a while before it responded with another reluctant, "Nine."

"Good boy," Miriam cooed.

"Dumb boy," Ash smirked. "Now he's going to be wearing bows."

Pyro released a mild five-second flame-thrower attack at Ash's smile.

"Pikachu pika ka, Pikapi."

"Yep. It _is_ Charizard all over again," Ash agreed, falling back and feeling where his bangs once were.

****

Pikachu sat next to Pyro, watching as the Ninetales re-lit the fire. Their Trainers were asleep in their respective sleeping bags. They hadn't done any traveling today.

_"Pyro?"_ she asked timidly once he had finished. Pyro ignored her. "_Pyro?"_ She touched him gently.

"_What, Rodent_?_"_ he snapped, releasing smoke.

_"Pikachu_," she corrected meekly, seeing that Miriam was rubbing of on him already.

"_Whatever_," he said loftily, resting his head on his paws. "_What do you want?_"

Pikachu was quiet for a moment, wondering how to phrase her question.

"_Why are you mean to Pikapi? He's only trying to help you._" Pyro snorted. "_He is. He was the one who bandaged your paw, and all you do is hurt him._"

Pyro turned his head to look at her. "_He's got you brainwashed, Rodent_."

"_Does not. Why do you, though_?"

"_I don't like males_." Pyro said tilting his head.

"_Why not_?"

He looked at her like she was a moron, and a bit hungrily. After all, he was a fox, and they did like to dine on mice. Yet, in Pyro's present condition, there was no way he was going to be able to capture swift and agile Pikachu.

"_I'm territorial, Rodent. I protect what's mine_."

Pikachu sat back on her hunches.

"_Pikapi doesn't want Chuka. And Chuka isn't yours_."

"_She is mine like Blondie is yours_," Pyro snapped. Pikachu nodded her head in agreement now.

"_So that is why you attack Pikapi_?" she asked after a moment, looking at the fire.

"_Mostly_."

_"Why else, then?"_

"_Males are dangerous. They set traps_."

"_Pikapi did not set that trap! You might as well blame Chuka for setting it if you're gonna think like that_!"

Pyro snorted again. "_Don't be daft. Only males protect territory like that_."

Pikachu looked at the wild Pokémon in disgust. "_You know nothing about my Pikapi then! He helps Pokémon. He helped you!_"

"_Only because she told him too_."

"_He would have helped even if she hadn't, I bet_!"

Pyro literally started to laugh.

"_He would_!"

"_Prove it_."

"_All right, I will_! _You just do what I tell you to and you'll see. Pikapi is a nice male, no matter what you do to him!_"

Pyro laughed again, red eyes looking at the mouse somewhat piteously. "_Forget it, Rodent. It doesn't matter_."

"_Something bad happened to you, didn't it_?" Pikachu asked kindly. "_Bad trainer_?" She figured he must have been a Trainer's Pokémon. Ninetales (or any stone-evolved Pokémon, for that matter) were exceedingly rare in the wild, for there were few chances for them to reach an Evolution Stone to evolve.

"_No! No trainer, ever!_" Pyro spat savagely, dimming remembering shadows of a time many years ago when a young cub, newly evolved at such a young age, eyes just open, slipped from the basket and fell to the hard ground, the cart or other occupants not even noticing.

"_What about Chuka_?"

"_She isn't a trainer. She's a_ . . ."

"_Friend_," Pikachu supplied with a smile. "_Pikapi is my friend_."

Pyro didn't respond.

"_So you don't trust Pikapi because you think a male set the trap_?"

Pyro sighed. She won't understand. "_Yes, Rodent. That is why_."

Pikachu shook her head. "_I pity you_."

"_Don't you dare_!" Pyro roared, jumping up heedless of his injury. Then he fell down. "_This wound is nothing_!"

She looked at him from over her shoulder, heading over to Ash_. "I wasn't talking about that, Pyro. If you see all males like that . . ._" She shook her head. "_May your eyes one day open up_."

"_Why don't you open your own? He's using you_!" Pyro screamed.

Pikachu ignored him now, hopping onto Ash and nuzzling him. Ash's eyes fluttered open, and he smiled.

"Hey, buddy," he murmured, sleepily petting her head with his bandaged hand. "Get some sleep. Tomorrow we got to get going."

"Pikapi," she cooed, closing her eyes. He smiled at her, then turned his head. Ash ended up meeting the savage gaze of Pyro, and he managed another small smile at the Pokémon's growl.

"Love you too. Good night, Pyro."

Pyro blinked as he set his head back down on his paws, licking the wounded one off-handedly. Slowly he fell asleep watching Pikachu get petted by Ash's tired hand long after both had fallen asleep.

"_Rodent's wrong. All males are the same. I should know. I _am_ one."_


	11. Chapter 10

**Chapter Nine:**You're A Deer!

"Follow the Yellow Brick Road. Follow the Yellow Brick Road. Follow, follow, follow, follow, follow the Yellow Brick Road. Follow the Yellow Brick, follow the Yellow Brick, follow the Yellow Brick Road." Miriam skipped ahead in a very good parody of the dance done in the movie.

"She scares me," Ash whispered to Shamin, smiling behind his hand. Pikachu nodded her agreement.

Shamin smiled back at him. "I know. She watches way too much TV, always the musicals too. She knows all the words to almost every song. _Sound of Music, Cats, Guys and Dolls, Babes in Toyland, Annie, Grease, The King and I, The Wizard of Oz_." She rolled her eyes hopelessly.

"So where are we off to?"

Miriam must have heard her, or went into the next section of the song with impeccable timing as she made a round back. "We're off to see the Wizard, the Wonderful Wizard of Oz. Ya'll find he is a whiz of a Wiz, if ever a Wiz there was. If ever, oh ever a Wiz there was, the Wizard of Oz is one because, because, because, because, because, because, because . . . of the wonderful thin's he does. We're off to see the Wizard. The Wonderful Wizard of Oz!"

Ash shook his head almost in disbelief, listening to Miriam before he answered the question Shamin proposed. "I'm not exactly sure," he admitted.

"Pikapi," Pikachu sighed from Shamin's shoulder, shaking her head.

"I'm not surprised, either," Shamin added, pushing him slightly.

Miriam suddenly appeared in front of them, walking backwards and her hands behind her head. "Ya shouldn't be. I mean, 'Scarecrow' here still needs a Brain." She grinned wickedly.

"We _really_ shouldn't have let you watch that encore showing," Ash sighed. "Okay. Why am I the Scarecrow?"

"Obvious reasons," Shamin stated.

"I was thinkin' it was because of the hair!" Miriam laughed, messing up his already untidy hair.

"Knock it off!" He frowned from under his protective arms, which he had put up to save his head.

"And who are you? The Tin M—Woman? I mean, you need a Heart."

Miriam smiled smugly. "I'm Dorothy." Shamin looked indignant.

"Why are _you_ Dorothy?"

"Because, I, unlike ya, have a Toto!" Miriam petted the living and sleeping shawl on her shoulders, (how Pyro could sleep when Miriam was singing in his ears, no one knew,) and Pyro opened his eye a sliver. "And he's a cute Toto, too."

"Well, I could use Pikachu as Toto," Shamin countered, holding Pikachu in her arms as evidence.

"Pika!"

"Nine! Tales nii!" Pikachu looked indignant, cheeks emitting thunderbolts.

"No. I'm Dorothy. Ya can be . . ." Miriam waved her hand vaguely. "The Cowardly Lion."

Ash snorted, then gripped his kneecap, having to hop on one foot to keep up with the others.

"Where do you think we're heading, Miriam?" Shamin asked, changing the subject but still glaring at Ash. Pikachu shook her head sadly looking between the two. "And don't you dare start into the refrain."

Miriam shrugged, still walking backwards. Pyro shifted his position at the action, still awake. "If ya're talkin' 'bout battlin', I have no clue. I mean, this place isn't up into Leagues. I don't think so, anyway."

"They used to," Ash stated, slinging off his pack and digging in. "I went to the library—"

"Ya know what one of them is?"

"—and did some research in the history of the place. I serious about this, too. According to what I read from ancient writing translations or whatever, _this_ side of the world used to be the highest challenge in Pokémon battling. I mean, the Indigo and Johto and Orange Island Leagues are like kids getting together for a friendly game, and then going to lunch afterwards compared to the way some of these Leagues ran."

They looked interested. "Really?" Shamin asked. "What happened to them?"

Pleased that he had their undivided—or for the most part, anyway, in Miriam's case—attention, Ash continued, producing papers as evidence of his findings. "Well, I guess these Leagues must have been dangerous or something, and the people who ran them were nuts, terrorizing everyone with threats and the Pokémon. So, everyone stood up against them and disbanded them or something. Even the other Pokémon Leagues turned against them, ordered them to close up or change the way they ran. Some agreed, but the people didn't forget what happened and what the Leagues did, so Pokémon became unpopular or something here, like now, I guess. Some didn't change of course, and they were ban to go to, not even mentioned, like they had never existed. But the die-hards still ran them. They had to because of their dedication."

"But this was how long ago?" Miriam asked. '_Because of there dedication'? Where does Blondie come up with this crap?_

"Centuries."

She nodded. "So you'll battle against skelly-tons. That ought to be an easy win."

Ash shook his head and spoke passionately. "No. These Leagues might still be run, but hidden."

"Key word," Shamin pointed out. "_Might_."

"Still . . . I mean, think about battling in these Leagues!" he gushed, banishing the papers. "I have to try and find them."

Miriam bowed her head with a mocking sort of remorse. "And we'll bury the bones of the Pokémon idiots who remained."

****

Their arms were linked as they walked into the forest. "Manies, and Gertigs, and Grizzles, oh my! Manies, and Gertigs, and Grizzles . . ."

"Do you have to walk like that, Miriam?" Ash complained. "I mean, I don't mind the singing, mostly, but that's the third time you've stepped on my foot!"

Miriam harrumphed, unlinking their arms. "Well, ya should have watched the movie to see how to walk properly."

"I wasn't aware I have to act it out at the time! How long do you focus on one show anyway?"

Shamin rolled her eyes as Miriam thought about the rhetorical question. "Her attention span varies. So where are we headed again? I mean, this forest is kinda creepy, 'specially with Miriam singing about dangerous monsters."

Ash dug into his pocket and retrieved a folded piece of paper. "According to this map, a League used to be here," he said as he unfolded it. Miriam grabbed it away.

"That was years ago, Blondie! The League might not even be around!" she stated, brandishing the paper at him like a sword.

He shook his head. "No. See, the Ratwa was one of the few leagues that agreed to conform. Of course, they didn't totally conform, but they still agreed."

"Cent-ur-ies ago!" Miriam repeated, louder.

"So you're just having us wander the forest in hopes that it's still around?" Shamin demanded hotly, hands on her hips. Pikachu looked at her Trainer in a similar manner.

Ash nodded. "I have to look."

"Ya scare me, Blondie. Ya really do," Miriam snapped, looking at the map critically. Pyro also looked at it in the air of that yes, he did understand it. "I mean, this thing looks ancient."

"I just printed it out at the library," Ash countered. "I made several copies too, in case I lose one."

Miriam sighed. "No. I mean the writing and stuff is old. The original must be old. Old things are not reliable."

Ash nodded. "I know. Look at you."

Slowly, he opened his eyes painfully when Pyro had finished recovering Miriam's pride. "I could really learn to hate him."

"Well, I like him," Miriam smiled. "We really need to get more burn cream, don't we?"

"Shut up."

"Actually, I think Pyro's starting to like you," Shamin said, looking at her watch and tapping the glass. "That time he didn't go on nearly as long as last time. And it's been almost a full week since he bit you."

"That's because he's been avoidin' Pyro. And are ya sure Pyro didn't last as long?" Shamin nodded, and Miriam clicked her tongue disapprovingly. "Can't let _that_ happen. Pyro's got to be in tip-top shape. So that means ya got to try and beat yar last record." Pyro nodded willingly, showing his fangs and ready to have another go.

"Your training method isn't regulation," Ash wailed, ducking behind Shamin and Pikachu.

"You're supposed to battle _other Pokémon_."

"And let Pyro get hurt? I think not."

"You can't baby him."

"Ya baby Rodent."

"Do not!"

"Do so." Shamin nodded her agreement, and Pikachu looked abashed.

"Well, then not as bad as you baby Pyro!" Again Shamin nodded, and Pyro looked offended.

"He's got you there, Miriam."

"Whose side are ya on?" Miriam demanded, petting Pyro protectively. "Wait, why do I even ask?" Shamin's cheeks flushed. "What got us on this discussion anyway?"

"Old things," Ash said helpfully, then quickly ducked back down behind Shamin when Pyro looked up.

Miriam's voice was clipped. "Yes, that was it." She looked back at the map, finger tracing a trail.

"We've been following this one then, I suppose."

"It's the only one on the map," Ash said, still behind Shamin. Miriam nodded, raising at eyebrow at the map.

"Chuka?" Pikachu asked, seeing the facial expression.

"What is it, Miriam?" Shamin asked, stepping forward and causing Ash to lose his human/Pokémon shield from Pyro. He looked panicky for a moment, then carefully walked over to see what Miriam found interesting. It was probably a drawing or something.

She pointed at something on the paper. "This is Latin or something, right?"

Ash followed her finger, then nodded. "Oh, yeah. "Amicus Pokémoni generis—Animal bipes implume'."

"And what does that mean?" Shamin asked.

"A friend of Pokémon—the two-legged, featherless animal, or human being," he stated after a moment of reflection.

Miriam narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him. "And how do ya know _that?_"

He grinned wickedly. "I have been schooled—" Miriam glared at him, daring him to continue the bluff—"_and_ I do know how to use the Internet Translator site."

"Well, then, _Professor_, what does the rest say then?" she asked with false sweetness.

"This part deals with the way the Leagues were run, I think. See, Ratwa was like the opener league. You went there first. But the ink was so blurry I couldn't figure out what the letters were to translate them, via the Internet. From what I could get, I think there was only one test. I don't know what, though."

"Ya'll just have to be surprised," Miriam said dryly.

Shamin snatched the paper from Ash's hands, looking at it critically. "Well, Navigator, how many days will it take to get there?"

Ash smiled sheepishly at them. "Well . . ."

Both of them raised their eyes to look at him, knowing nothing good came from _that_ start.

He avoided meeting their eyes. "Considering we've been going in circles for an undetermined amount of time . . ."

Shamin's jaw dropped. "You've got a map!" She waved it as evidence.

"I can't actually read it!"

Miriam held her head in disbelief. "Why didn't ya tell us this before, Blondie? We could have asked for directions."

Ash looked indignant. "I would have figured it out eventually."

Both Miriam and Shamin said it at the exact same time, in the exact same tone. "_Men_."

"There's got to be a correspondence course that can teach men to wall their blasted pride and ask for bloody directions," Miriam sighed.

He smirked at her. "There's one, if there's one for women to teach them to take less that five hours to prepare to go outside to get the paper."

"May my blisters be on yar head." Then Miriam took charge. "Fine. Shamin, ya try and read the map, then get us out of this mess."

"Women always have to clean up after men," Shamin smiled.

"You wish it was so," Ash retorted.

"Give me one instance that that _you_ had to—No, no, wait, don't you dare," she ordered, just seeing the face.

He was grinning. "How about the time—" He barely ducked safely aside as Shamin's kicked up her leg. "Missed me, missed me."

"She'd be willin' to complete that rhyme, ya know," Miriam said subtly. Ash looked at her in confusion, and Miriam shook her head sadly. "Ya are so deprived if ya don't know _that_ taunt."

"Well, what's the other part?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"I'll tell ya when ya're older."

This statement had the desired effect: the anger at the face value of the statement, but then also the underlying worry of what it actually meant.

****

The Hoot-Hoot stuck its head out of its hole in the wall in annoyance and looked down at the travelers broke down from the tangle of vines and brush. Third time this week something had woken it during the daylight hours. First that stupid—but tasty—rat, the pushy Beedrill, and now . . . _whatever_ these were. He ruffled his feathers and tried to sink deeper into his hole, covering his ears. He was going to move, too old for all these interruptions of his valuable sleep time. Suddenly he peeked back out. Ooh, a mouse. Tasty.

On the other hand, the word "disappointment" was literally written on Ash's face as the troupe looked at the building. True, once it must have once been beautiful, the finely carved stones upon the walls and exquisite gardens. He bet vines of flowers or something similar had once spiraled around the pillars on along the walls, and the roads would have been trimmed. Yes, and there was would have clean grey-white walls, not this putrid black dirt. And there would have been a roof.

Yes, there would have _definitely_ been a roof.

"Well, what a place! Now where do ya think will he be battlin'?" Miriam asked Pyro sweetly and with false-innocence. Pyro chuckled evilly, as only he could.

"This is the right place, according to the map," Shamin said pointedly. "No one's used the trails here except animals, which is why you missed it."

"I must say I like the décor," Miriam continued, still addressing Pyro but talking loud enough so that Ash could hear. "It's got that _No-One's-Lived-Here-For-Centuries_ look. I wonder if that's what they were aimin' for, cuz they really hit _that_ nail on the head."

Ash sighed. "Miriam."

"What? Ya drag us here to look at a buildin' that should be condemned! How _should_ I react?"

"Do you think we could get anything for finding it? Must be historic or something," Shamin said, looking at the ruins critically.

"Shouldn't think so. I mean—hey, hey, Blondie! Oh no ya don't!" she ordered, gripping him by the collar and yanking him back, since Pikachu was nowhere near strong enough. "It's dangerous in there."

Ash looked at the building, like he was just noticing the possible danger. "Maybe," he agreed. "But we should go in. They might have just relocated." He looked at her with wide, pleading eyes.

"So they left us a forwardin' address?" Miriam asked sarcastically, smacking him alongside the head. Pyro, seeing that he could also punish the boy, released a very mild flame. "We're not the post office, right? And there ain't no way in 'H' we're goin' in there."

"_You_ don't have to," Ash countered, rubbing off his charred skin.

"We're not gonna let you go in alone," Shamin sighed, kicking away a stone. "You might as well put of fork in this League, because it is definitely done."

"That is such a stupid saying," Miriam muttered under her breath, squeezing the bridge of her nose. "'Tis true. Look, even _ya_ said the Leagues over here weren't popular. Face it, Blondie. It's gone. They all might be."

Ash turned his head sharply, a defiant look on his face. "Well, I'm going to make sure they all are, then. I'll visit every single last one."

"No, we will," Shamin said.

"Pi."

"What's this 'we' stuff?" Miriam muttered sarcastically, crossing her arms. Pyro nodded from her shoulder, looking at the building with great distaste. He had slept in logs better than that.

"We might as well camp here," Shamin said, slinging off her pack. "And we can plan where we can go next."

"I already know."

The others looked at Miriam curiously. "Pi?" Pikachu asked.

She waved her hand vaguely. "Oh, just another ancient buildin' long since abandon and in disrepair."

"A very general statement," Ash sighed, undoing his pack.

"Hey, if none of these Leagues are running, then what are you going to do?" Shamin asked once everyone was settled and she was studying the maps.

"Always can go home," Miriam smiled sweetly.

Ash didn't answer. _What_ could he do? True, there were still Leagues left that he hadn't battled at, so he could still battle. But could he return home?

Could he?

****

His usual wake-up call woke Ash up—the kick to his side. But, while Miriam usually just kicked hard enough to get him to roll over, this kick was made in the attempt to rupture his spleen or similar. He let out a very loud gasp and only kept from screaming by biting his lip so hard that blood started to flow.

"Miriam?" he gasped, clutching his side and pushing himself up. damn, it was a good thing he slept on his back. If he slept on his side, his stomach would be getting the blow.

It was still dark out, very dark. The fire was down, Pyro and Pikachu sleeping next to it. Ash smiled weakly, tasting his own blood. The bloody fox didn't look so mean when he was asleep. He squinted at the two other sleeping bags that finished the triangle around the fire. With a blink of surprise, Ash could see that both were still occupied by their sleeping owners. Miriam certainly hadn't kicked him.

"But someone must have," he muttered, wincing as he slid out of his bag. Oh yeah, _someone_ certainly had, and they'd better have a good reason. Oh, screw having a good reason. They'd just better be able to run really fast.

Slowly he stood up, still clutching his side, and looked around. He couldn't see much in the dim lighting, and he frowned. "Who's there?" he called as loudly as he dared. The girls might sleep like rocks, but both were exceedingly dangerous if woken. They were almost as bad as Pyro.

Of course no one answered, and slowly Ash started to walk carefully around the small area in front of the building, listening intently. He didn't bother to put on his shoes. The silence was oppressing, and he felt like someone was watching him. "Hello?"

There weren't even crickets to respond to his call. If silence had a sound, dammit, then it certainly was ringing in his ears. Ash tried to keep his cool as he licked his lips and blood. Something had to be here. Nothing just kicked you in the side . . .

A shadow flew over-head, and Ash looked up to see the night-bird swoop in the air. Unless it was a Pokémon.

He sagged with relief. Yeah, that was probably it. A wild Pokémon probably ran past and hit him accidentally.

But that couldn't happen, not with Pyro around, and Pikachu too, Ash thought. Pyro was too over-protective of where they camped, already having fried a poor Pidgey that had landed next to their leftovers while the fox was seemingly asleep. Luckily Ash had managed to get the wounded Pokémon (much to the risk of his own skin) into a Pokéball before Pyro could pounce and kill it with a bite to the throat. (He'd given the bird to Shamin, as Miriam couldn't take it because of Pyro and Shamin didn't have her own Pokémon yet.) Most of the Rattatas weren't as lucky; their almost fully eaten remains were found at morning. Ash had to remember that Pyro had once been wild, and would continue to eat that way for a long time. (Ash wasn't worried about the fox attacking Pikachu. The two seemed to have a decent friendship going, and Pikachu could easily beat the fox if push came to shove.)

No, Pyro was still asleep, so it couldn't have been that.

Maybe a Ghost?

Ash shuddered involuntarily. Ghost Pokémon were the worst to meet in the forest at night, the hours of haunting. But why just wake him? It was more fun to torment many people at once, wasn't it?

The questions swirled in his brain, their answers not very pleasing or lasting to him and his follow-up questions. Something had to be out there, something that could disappear quickly and get past Pyro without waking the devil-fox. It had taken Ash a lot of practice to be able to do that.

He sighed. Whatever it was that had hit him, did it really matter now? It was probably . . . hopefully . . . long gone. Ash shook his head and gingerly touched his lip. It'd be sore tomorrow, along with his side.

A sudden noise caused him to turn quickly. It wasn't a loud noise, but it was a noise that destroyed the silence for but a moment. At the moment Ash was at the base of the few steps the to the building, and he looked towards the hanging doors at the top suspiciously.

The next noise took him a while to notice because it was so soft and unobtrusive. Finally his ears picked up the very gentle and faint melody, and Ash was sure it was some kind of flute or similar. He was unsure as to where the music was coming from, and part of his thought that it was his imagination. Yet his imagination must have really been working overtime when his eyes swore they saw a flicker of light past one of the doors at what he could see at this, however close to the level of the building's floor, angle.

Ash looked over his shoulder at his sleeping friends, then slowly climbed the three steps.

****

He coughed as he batted away the dust, and the sound echoed. The inside of the building lived up to the expectations of the outside. Disintegrating beams had fallen ages ago, bringing the ceiling with them, to lie on the floor. Spinaraks had added their cobwebs, then moved out when the pickings grew slim so many years ago. Yet the floor was truly stone and in no danger of collapsing under him, so Ash found relief in that he only had to worry about the ceiling and balcony falling down on him.

The further he moved back, the louder the music got, and again he called out. "Hello? Who are you?"

The music didn't answer, and he continued forward, pushing himself over a beam. The light still shone, and it flickered like a fire. From inside and as he neared, Ash could see that the flight came from a doorway in the very back.

Something about the room he was in bothered Ash. When it was in its prime, Ash could tell that this was not a place for a battle. It was, for one, too small to be regulation. There were also no platforms or markings under the dust and dirt. And finally, it just didn't have the essence of a battlefield. That is to say, Ash couldn't feel the past victories and losses vibrating off the walls. (Okay, so he was a Romantic in that way. So shoot him.)

He still was shoeless, so Ash could feel every stone he stepped on and how cold the floor actually was. Yet he ignored that as he moved into the room in which was the light's source. This room was different. There was a ceiling, and it was clean and round. The music was louder in here as well, reverberating off the walls. In the very center was a pedestal with a burning candle on it. Burning where it was, Ash could not see the corners of the room. Slowly he walked over to the candle and looked at it.

It was new, a long stem left and seemingly green in this light.

Who lit it?

Ash took his gaze away to look at the dark areas of the room. The music still played, and he called out a tentative, "Hello?"

A shadow moved, and the music stopped. "Hallo, Ash." It was old, harsh, grunting sort of voice.

He blinked in surprise and took a step back. "How do you know my name?" he demanded. He couldn't have heard it, for both Shamin and, although very rarely, Miriam called him Shan.

"Does it matter?" the voice teased, and the shadow moved rapidly with a clattering noise to another corner, should the round room actually have corners hidden in the darkness.

"I do know you, but do you know me?"

"Are you the Trainer for this Pokémon gym?" Ash asked, summing up his courage and trying to find the owner of the voice as he continued to circle him, the loud tapping sound echoing loudly in the room.

"Does it matter?"

"Are you?"

A door was suddenly shut over the way Ash had come. "Does it matter?" the voice repeated in a whisper, and Ash drew nearer to the candle.

A panic was rising in his throat. "Y-yes, it does. Now are you?"

"I don't think that matters," the voice countered, a slow tap-tap-tap noise hitting the floor.

"Who are you?" Ash almost yelled. "Just answer the question!"

A slow, deep chuckle. "Temper, temper, young Trainer. You have much to learn. Much. But you will, in time." Ash whirled around, for the voice sounded right at his ear.

"I welcome you to Ratwa."

"And who are you?"

"Ratwa is an old League with a unique challenge," the voice continued, ignoring Ash's repeated question. "Dangerous and deadly for the foolish, as many who tried the task proved, but very enlightening in the ways of Pokémon.

"Tell me, Ash, do you fancy yourself foolish?"

Ash found he couldn't answer either way. To say he was would probably make him ineligible for the competition, but to say he wasn't was a dead lie, with the proof staring—probably—him in the face. "Sometimes, I suppose, Sir."

"A Pokémon Trainer can not afford to be foolish, even sometimes," the voice said, but there was a note of approval in the voice, pleased with the answer Ash had given. Ash felt like he had past a small sort of test.

"I know."

"You are young. May you grow out of it." The tapping noise on the stones started again, circling him. "Why do you come here. No one has tried Ratwa in many, many years, many times over your own years. Why not the other Leagues, Indigo or Orange Islands, perhaps?"

"I've been in them."

"And won?"

A swell of Pride hit Ash. "I won at the Orange Islands, and in Indigo I was—"

"In the top 16, I know, I know," the voice finished impatiently, angry. "Don't ever let that arrogance enter your life. Those Leagues are nothing here, Ash. Nothing."

Ash cringed, for the tone was very authoritative. "Sorry."

"And don't ever apologize!" the voice snapped. "Here you do what you must to win, no matter what!"

"You don't do whatever!" Ash countered. "You battle fair!"

The silence returned, and Ash could hear the level breathing of the voice. Then there was a grim chuckle. "Maybe where you're from, Ash, but you'll find not all of the Leagues or their members follow that standard. And, in time, if you're lucky, you'll lose it as well. Because if you don't, you have a hard road."

"What—"

"And you'll learn not to ask questions!"

"Sor—" Ash stopped himself, angry at himself, but even more at the owner of the voice.

The chuckle sounded again. "You're learning, Ash. Yes." The voice trailed off for a moment, and Ash could feel eyes studying him. He would have loved to grab the candle and bring it around to see the face, but he didn't want to offend the person. And, truth be told, he was slightly afraid of what he'd see. His imagination imaged a face with a thousand scars, mad red eyes, the nose long and pointed, teeth sharp—

"You'll do, I suppose."

"I'll do what?" Ash asked before he could stop himself.

A grunt was his reply. "Do you believe in Destiny, Ash?"

"Should I?"

"Answer the question!"

"You never answered any of mine!" Ash snapped.

"Do _you_ believe in _Destiny_?"

Ash looked defiantly into the darkness. "I think people make their own Destiny by what they choose and do."

"Really?" The voice was interested. "And what is your Destiny, younger Trainer?"

Ash shrugged. "I don't know."

"You don't know?" the voice said in a mocking voice. "Please explain."

He thought about what he meant for a good long time, and the voice didn't pressure him to speed up his answer. "I guess Destiny always changes, and you can't just know what it is. You got to make it. And only you can make it, not God or whatever. Destiny is what you have when you die and think about all _you_ did with what you got."

"A most interesting assessment," the voice said.

"Thank you."

"Don't take compliments! There's always something behind them!"

Again Ash cringed.

"Tell me then, if Destiny doesn't bring you here, what does?"

"I want to be a Pokémon Master."

"And you do not say that is your Destiny?"

He smiled sheepishly. "I wouldn't mind if it was."

"Oh, you wouldn't," the voice murmured, and Ash raised his eyes to look into the darkness, questioning. "You are young and from this new era, but there are many levels of Master." Ash blinked. He had never heard of this before. "Which level are you to aspire to?"

He had to ask. "What—what are the levels?"

The voice chuckled humorlessly. "They say the higher the level, the worse the morals."

"Oh?"

"Yes. Because of how they reached that level. They lose that innocence they started with."

"Well, I won't," Ash said defiantly.

"Child," the voice said gently, walking away. "We all lose the simplicity, the innocence of childhood as we age. There's no hanging onto it, save the special few. And you, Ash, are not one of them. And no use denying it, because you aren't."

Ash said nothing in his defense, and slowly music started to drift up to fill the room.

"What is the challenge of the Ratwa League?" he asked at length.

The music stopped abruptly. "Do you think you're up to it?"

"What is it?"

"No questions," the voice reminded. "And it should not matter in any case if you wish to truly be a Master."

Ash remained firm. "I won't put my Pokémon in danger."

There was a trill on the instrument. "Ratwa uses no Pokémon except one, and we provide you with it. Or, as some say, you provide it for us. Whatever the case may be, it is no more dangerous than any other day in a Pokémon's life."

"You said other trainers died."

"I did not specify which Pokémon's life I was speaking about, did I?"

He had to agree. "No."

"The trial lasts a week, sometimes less, and it tests the trainer to the ultimate in a very unique field. To win, all one needs to do is to remain alive. A very easy test, yes?"

Ash didn't answer, because he knew there'd be more to it.

"Do you wish to try Ratwa?"

He stood up straighter, shoulders back. "I think I have to if I'm going to continue trying to be a Master."

"You won't always have this choice."

"You _always_ have a choice."

"Fine, you do, but not always with the choices you want." Ash felt Miriam had said something like that before, but he couldn't remember where or when. "Yes or no, please. People are so sue-happy nowadays."

Ash took a very deep breath. "Yes. Yes, please."

"Very well." Ash listened as the tapping came closer. Before the figure always stayed in the shadows, just barely out of the candle's ability to highlight the face. But now the owner's face came into the dim light.

"You're a faun!" he exclaimed.

"Am I now, Ash?" he smiled, the panflute in his hands.

Saying "But you're just a myth" was not the brightest statement to say, Ash conceded, seeing as one was standing in front of him. "I thought you weren't real."

"How coincidental. I thought little boys were make-believe too." The faun walked over to the candle.

"Are you a Pokémon?"

"Don't insult me, Ash. 'There are more things in Heaven and Earth that are dreamed up in your philosophy, Horatio.'"

"Shakespeare, _Hamlet_," Ash said in a minute. damn, he hated reading Shakespeare at home. He ended up buying the Cliff Notes in the end. Why could the bloody characters talk in an English he could understand?

"Very good. Of course, maybe I am a Pokémon. Maybe we all are, only Humans believe themselves not to be." The faun smiled at Ash, lifting up the candle. "And maybe I am but an illusion projected by another Pokémon trickster. Or maybe I am a dream."

Ash touched his side gingerly. "Kick pretty *** good for a dream or illusion."

"That is no proof. Here, take this." He handed Ash a small vial. "Drink this. 'Tisn't poison, and it's part of the trial. Be mindful 'tis a bit stale and probably not the sweetest."

He looked at the vial, holding no more liquid than a thimble would. "Then what?"

The faun walked past him. "You stay alive, Ash."

Ash looked at the vial again, then turned to look at the faun. "What—? "

The question died on his lips. The faun was gone.

****

Ash looked at the tiny vial he held at the top and bottom with his thumb and forefinger. Now he was sitting on the bottom step of the building and it was a few hours to dawn, still dark but not as dark as when he had woken. He shook the vial, then watched as the bubbles returned to the top.

Should he drink it?

Was it a test of his courage . . . or his stupidity?

Did it matter in either case? He had to drink it to be in the trial.

Or maybe this was a test to see if he had brains enough _not_ to listen to what someone told him to do.

"Damn." He muttered. He couldn't go to the others. Miriam would kick him nine days from Tuesday, and then smash the vial under her boot. Shamin would fret and say he was stupid for going in alone and that he could have been hurt or something. Pyro would just bite him in the ankle for waking him and pretty much signal to drink it and hope it's poison, and Pikachu wouldn't be help in either case.

Ash sighed, rubbing his bruised side. He had the choice—To drink, or Not to Drink? That is the Question—and he'd have to live with the consequences in either case. To not drink, play it safe, and live the rest of his life without knowing what would have happened, or to drink and maybe die.

What an ultimatum.

"' _Tisn't poison_ . . ."

Could he trust the . . . faun? Hell, could he trust his own eyes?

For some reason—God or whomever knew everything only knew—he did. "Oh, Hell." Ash sighed again, uncapping the bottle. Better to live Life now than later, he thought bitterly looking at the liquid. Then, before he could lose his nerve, Ash quickly downed the liquid.

It had a biting flavor, and it chilled him as it went down his throat so much that he half-shuddered, half-shivered uncontrollably for a good minute. But, other than that, nothing happened.

"Hmm," he murmured, setting the vial down on the step next to him. "Now what?"

Actually, he wasn't that concerned about that. The faun had said he'd get a Pokémon to use during the trial, and Ash had started to wonder what kind he was going to get. He should have asked, although Ash was pretty sure he wouldn't have been answered. Maybe a whole new species! He smiled with anticipation. All he had to do was wait.

Ash yawned, stretching his arms out. Well, he might as well get some sleep. Who knew what tomorrow would bring, and he'd have to be awake to face it. He stood up . . . and was suddenly dizzy, leaning against a pillar for support. There was a throbbing in his ears, and his stomach was doing very high somersaults in a very small space. He couldn't even think of questioning what was wrong and he fell to the ground. Then he saw it.

His hands weren't . . . hands.

They were . . . hooves?

"Wgammah!" The word mutated as it came from his lips, changing into a sort of cry. With his head continuing to spin, panic rose within him as his face stretched and fur sprouted everywhere. His arms extended while his legs shortened to an equal height, making him stand at about two, two-and-a-half feet, and he could feel his back and sides thinning out. Antlers started to come out of his head.

He reared as a horde of instincts attacked him at once, sending his mind into a whirl, the panic and fear of being out in the open, an easy attack. His smell was terribly accurate, and he could smell something he didn't understand or know what it was. He pawed the ground, unable to move in the cumbersome clothing, and releasing a small yep that sounded like a bark. Unable to escape, hysteria dictating his actions, Ash whirled on his hindlegs and ran blindly into the forest, occasionally stumbling on a sleeve or pants leg.

****

Pyro opened his eyes, angry. Something was making a lot of racket. He leaped to his feet, growling, and looked around. The girls were present and accounted for, but Blondie's bag was empty. Who cared about him anyway, though?

"_What's going on?_" Pikachu asked, yawning. "_What's making that noise?_" She looked sleepily up into the sky, trying to see if that Hoot-Hoot was still around. Stupid bird tried to grab her. Well, he wouldn't be grabbing anything for a while, not with that shock she gave the bird-***. She was surprised he could still fly.

"_Shut up, Rodent! Just some Pokémon. I must have scared it away._"

Pikachu jumped up. "_Of course you did_," she sighed, looking around. "_Where's Pikapi?_"

"_How should I know?_" Pyro sniped, lying back down after lighting the fire back up. Pikachu glared at him. _"And why should I even care?_"

"_Pikapi!"_ Pikachu yelled, running over to the sleeping bag. "_Where are you?"_

"_Hope you stay there!"_ Pyro added.

"_Pyro!"_

He snorted. "_Well, I do._"

Pikachu looked at him contemptuously, then went over to Shamin. If Pyro wasn't going to help—like Pikachu thought he would in the first place—she'd just have to go to the next best thing, even if it wasn't the very best thing to go to. She'd get the other Pokémon to help too. And _they_ would help, at least.

****

Ash frantically shook his head, finally releasing the shirt from his antlers. No more turtlenecks for him. That was work to get off, even after he had made the rip. Without much of a thought, he stepped off the shirt and looked suspiciously around at his surroundings.

Big surprise, he had no realistic clue as to where he was. The towering trees looked the same as the next, the creepers hanging off their branches, and the mud sucked at his hooves. There were no trails, man-made or otherwise, to lead him back, nor his own hoof-prints because these eyes weren't good enough to spot the slight impressions. Maybe he could follow his own scent, but he couldn't easily tell his scent from the others. His *** nose was too acute for him, and swamp smell did not help him.

He shouldn't have run off like that, Ash admitted as he walked cautiously. But that blasted instinct or whatever it was just so powerful. Even now, even though Ash felt he had the wired nerves under control, every chirp or snap of a twig caused him nearly bolt in the opposite direction. It was very contrary to his usual reaction of Let's Go Inspect Whatever That Was.

And even if they would have killed him, he _should_ have told Miriam and Shamin. Or at least Pikachu.

A very human action Ash would have done would have been to bite his lip, but he couldn't do that in this form. Come to think about it, what was he? I mean the way it seemed, he was some sort of Pokémon, but that was crazy. How could he be a Pokémon? That was as ridiculous as . . . a faun. Ash gave a small whine. This couldn't be real, though. No, no, no. He was supposed to _battle and train _Pokémon, not _be_ one.

_" Ratwa uses no Pokémon except one, and we provide you with it. Or, as some say, you provide it for us. Whatever the case may be, it is no more dangerous than any other day in a Pokémon's life."_

" _. . .Or, as some say, you provide it for us_ . . ."

He stumbled over a root and barely regained his footing in time. _That's_ what the faun meant? The Trainer was the Pokémon? For a week?

This had to be a dream.

This. Definitely. Had. To. Be. A. Dream.

Damn, it'd better be.

****

Shamin bit her thumbnail nervously. "Where could he be?" she whimpered.

"He's around, Hon, all right. Probably just went for a walk or somethin'," Miriam said, waiting at the edge of the temple for Pikachu to return.

"Without his shoes?"

"Don't think logically. He'd walked out in public with his undershorts on his head."

"Only to embarrass you."

"_And_ ya."

Pikachu leaped out of the entrance. "Chu," she reported disappointed. Pikapi had been in there, but he wasn't in there now.

Miriam held her chin, watching her fox Pokémon look extremely peeved as he circled the clearing, trying to pick up a scent. "I don't think Pyro's findin' a scent."

"Do you think he might have been abducted?" Shamin asked wildly.

"By what?"

"Aliens! Like in the papers!" She looked panicky. "They perform all those medical experiments and stuff!"

Sucking her teeth, Miriam shook her head at Shamin. They needed to have a serious talk about make-believe. "He wasn't abducted by bloody aliens."

"How do you know?"

"Well, for one, they have to have a Visa or green card."

Shamin blinked at her. "Not aliens! _Aliens_!" She put a lot of effort into that word.

"Difference?"

****

Ash bounded over the log easily in the mid-morning light, slipping again into the interest in testing this new form's abilities while he attempted to get back to the temple. (He was currently heading in the wrong direction, but Ash did start out in the right direction. That's all that matters, really, right?) He couldn't quite understand it—should he be able to remember what it was he wanted to remember—but thoughts flowed out of his head faster than usual. They just didn't stay long enough for him to actually carry out what he wanted to do with them.

He stopped at a river and bent his head down to drink deeply. As Ash pulled back, he studied his reflection. He had large docile, brown eyes on each side of his graceful nose. The small antlers protruded his forehead around a lighter brown—almost golden—fur, the tips pointing back. He had a lithe brown body, a few spots on his chest, a small little tail that ended in a fluffy curl, and dainty legs that could certainly leap high. He looked like a cousin to a Stantler, except smaller and much more delicate.

Ash cocked his head to the side, perking his ears up. Then, without a thought, quickly pivoted on his back legs and bounded through the trees with a quickness that was part of his size.

Bound. Bound. Jump over the log. Bound. Bound. Bound. Oh, look, a nice patch of grass.

It was a nice green patch that, to the untrained eye, was entirely the same as the next patch. Yet Ash's eye and nose picked up the sweet fragrance of _that _area, and he knew it was going to be the tastiest grass in the whole meadowy area.

Oh, damn, he _loved_ being right!

****

"He couldn't have just taken off!" Shamin said in response to Miriam's absurd statement as she pulled her hair away from the tangling branches that Miriam somehow avoided. "He would have taken his Pokédex or Pikachu!"

Pikachu nodded from a branch above their heads.

Miriam turned and walked backwards. "Well, maybe he went sleepwalkin'," she said after a moment of reflection. "Anythin', Pyro?"

Pyro literally growled in annoyance. Now it wasn't that fact that he was being forced to find Ash that bothered him, but that he _couldn't_ find Ash. Oh, that boy was going to get one good bite to the nose or somewhere.

"He didn't take to the trees, right, Rodent?"

"Chu," Pikachu answered as she leaped to another tree.

Miriam held her chin thoughtfully, pausing in stride. "No rivers to swim in, all his Pokémon present and accounted for—"

"We should use them," Shamin interjected.

"No. We can't control them, and I don't like 'em anyway."

"But—"

"No," she said defiantly.

Shamin crossed her arms in a pout. She really wanted to try using those Pokémon, and he wouldn't mind, she was sure of it. And they wouldn't mind . . . probably. Oh, they wouldn't mind at all. All she had to do was get a Pokéball when Miriam wasn't looking—

"Don't even think about it."

"What?" Shamin asked innocently.

"Don't. Just don't." Miriam sighed. "Let's head back. My feet hurt."

****

Ash yawned and slowly brought himself down to the ground, legs curling under him. He looked around the thicket. It was nice and comforting, like home. Funny, he couldn't remember home, but it felt like home. A lot.

Where was his home again?

That he couldn't remember troubled Ash. He couldn't remember a lot of details that should come easily to him, and he knew stuff he shouldn't know. He knew he _should_ sleep in this thicket, that he _shouldn't_ go over there, just _where_ the right grass grew. Yet now Ash couldn't quite remember all the details of what he should be doing, why he was here.

He flared in nostrils in annoyance, setting his head down and watching as it grew dim outside. He was missing something, he knew it. It just didn't feel right or make sense out here, like trying to put a puzzle together by looking at the back of the pieces, but still looking at the picture on the box.

Ash closed his eyes and did the deer-equivalent to a sigh. He'd figure it out tomorrow. Yeah, tomorrow he'd figure it out, and do whatever it was he had wanted to do today. He tilted his head, irked. _Whatever_ it was.

It was easier to fall asleep as a Pokémon, Ash mused. As a human, thoughts always chased themselves in his brain, but the Pokémon merely shut down into that blessed realm of unconsciousness.

Or not so blessed . . .

As it was easier to fall asleep as a Pokémon, it was also easier to jolt wide-awake. His keen ears picked up every cackle of a leaf like a bomb, and he was awake in a flash, ready to run. Ash looked fugitively past the branches, suddenly feeling very scared as he thought about something. He was a very little, helpless Pokémon (provided this wasn't a dream brought on by drinking that stuff) in a forest that had very big and dangerous Pokémon in it. He knew because he had come across some of their footprints.

_Gee, Grandma, what big claws you have! I bet you have big teeth to go with them._

_No, Grandma, I don't want to see_.

It was colder now. Ash shivered and tried to curl into an even smaller ball. His glossy coat seemed to offer no shelter to the chills going up his spine, and he didn't have enough fat on this body to keep in heat.

Maybe it wasn't the cold that was making him shake. Maybe he was just scared. Yeah, that could be it. Ash looked out past the web of branches into the oppressive darkness. Yeah, he was just scared. It wasn't cold out it wasn't cold out it wasn't cold out . . .

Damn! It _wasn't_ cold out! It was _freezing!_

Even admitting that it was cold out made him shiver harder, and he snorted. All the weather needed now was snow.

Ash sat up straighter and peered out past the branches suspiciously.

God, please don't you dare. Don't you _dare_.

****

A Hoot-Hoot hooted and Shamin huddled under her sleeping bag, forcing her teeth not to chatter.

"Couldn't you have had Pyro build the fire up higher?"

Miriam sighed from somewhere within her own bag. "No. If he built it any higher, we'll just have to get wood sooner. Just try and get some sleep."

"Do you think—"

"_Yes!_ He's fine. And if he catches cold, his own fault," Miriam sniped. "Look, both Rodent and Pyro are still searchin'. They'll find him." By now, even Miriam was beginning to doubt that, but she forced nonchalance. Where could the bloody idiot be? she wondered.

"It has to be aliens," Shamin moaned. "It's the only logical explanation."

Miriam cocked her eyebrow. "That's logical?"

"If _Pyro_ can't find him!"

"Pyro probably has a nose-cold or somethin'." _Yeah right._

"Miriam!"

"Hey, he gets sniffles too!"

"What about Pikachu, then?"

Miriam rolled her eyes. "She's not really a tracker, is she? No."

"We could use his other—"

"No!"

"But!"

Miriam gritted her teeth. "Are we their Trainer or whatever? No! We can't control them. Blondie said some of them are particular, and he'd kill us if one of them got away from us."

Shamin looked savagely at Miriam. "Look, we need help finding him, and they'd help!"

"So ya think. Just get some sleep."

She bit her lip and huddled into a tighter ball, brushing back a wisp of green hair. "I'm worried, though."

Miriam sighed. "Me, too," she muttered.

****

There was a layer of frost on his flank, and Ash shook himself to remove the thin film ice. The sun was just peeking into his thicket, and he carefully peeked out of it. It was very, very quiet. Foresty, quiet, even.

He bounded out. Time for breakfast. The thicket was near the meadow, and it was really just a hop, skip, and a jump to it.

It was time for his very first lesson of the forest:

_If even the Birds are quiet, proceed with CAUTION!_

Ash's eyes went wide as his feet stopped moving. Furry heads suddenly raised out of the long grass and looked at him with hungry eyes. He could see one stand up, and Ash struggled to figure out what kind of Pokémon it was, what kind of Pokémon was looking at him as the main course. A . . . Hyaena? No, correction, a pack of Hyaena. Of hungry Hyaena . . .

Slowly they started to advance on him, long pink tongues lolling out. Ash backed up slowly, trying to think. Weren't Hyaena sort of like a desert region Pokémon, not forest? _Weren't they?_ These aren't real. They can't be real. His legs trembled, mind frozen, as the ten creatures advanced on him. One leaped—

Okay, even if they weren't real, Ash ran away, very fast. Because if they were real, then those teeth were real, and those claws were real—

And for imaginary creatures, they were very fast and gaining ground.

****

Miriam walked into the building carefully, testing each part of the floor with her toe before placing her whole body-weight on the area. Pikachu was sure Blondie had gone here, and they really needed some clues. She sneezed, and the sound echoed repeatedly.

"Can't you walk any faster?" Shamin demanded, trying to get past her.

She frowned. "Excuse me for tryin' to be safe."

Shamin slipped under her arm easily, lining the wall with her flashlight and unconcerned with the possible danger. "This place is kinda cool, ya know?"

"It's kinda dirty," Miriam said, climbing over a fallen pillar.

"It doesn't look like this place was just abandon," Shamin said carefully, timidly running her hand over the wall.

"What do ya mean?"

She struggled to say what she meant. "This place is mostly stone. The pillars wouldn't have just fallen. And there's broken pottery on the ground. It's like someone purposely tried to destroy the place."

"Earthquake, maybe. Them rock Pokémon can do that, I think. And ya did say Pokémon leagues weren't that popular over here. This place must have had rather bad P.R."

"Maybe," she agreed softly, walking along the wall. It wasn't an earthquake, she thought as her hand touched some disintegrated fabric of a banner. A ripped banner. At her feet were the strands that had survived the mold and decay. "I bet it was beautiful."

"Sound like Blondie," Miriam sighed. "This was no Taj Mahal, ever. Fact, can't see what's so great bout that place either."

"I was talking—oh, never mind." Shamin paused. "You've never been in the Taj Mahal, have you?"

Miriam snorted. "No. It's just a big coffin, really. Some king and queen are buried in there."

That got Shamin's interest. "Really?"

"Yeah," Miriam said, peeling out some cobwebs from her hair. "The guy built it in memory of his wife after she died, or somethin', I think."

"That's sweet."

"No, that's expensive," Miriam countered. "But he was the king. And do ya really think _he_ built the thing by himself? Yeah right. And he gave it to her after she died. Like sayin' 'Here's a nice coffin that some guy down the street made. I hope ya stay in it.' Give me money any time, while I'm alive, that is. Or I bet all them common folk liked her a lot, so he built it to make them happy."

Shamin frowned. "I don't think that's why he built it, Miriam."

"Yes it is," Miriam said in her self-assured voice, coming over to Shamin. "Ya're just such a Romantic that ya don't want to believe it. History is not all Romeos and Julies, Mark and Cleo and that salad guy, or that Helen chick whose was captured with that plastic horse."

"Are you sure you got the history right? I mean, wasn't Helen _resc_—"

"_Point is_," Miriam said loudly. "Men do things to keep themselves on the good side of the people." She was quiet for a moment, fingering the tapestry. "Have to, considerin' for every one king there was like a couple million peasants. They could of taken him."

"Kings have guards," Shamin pointed out.

"It only takes _one_ guard to wield a knife in a downward stroke."

"But he'd get executed for assassination, wouldn't he? And then there'd be a war to get a new king, and everyone would end up fighting and stuff."

Miriam smiled. "Sure. But then ya only need one more guard to knife the guy!"

Shamin shook her head, moving away. "Thank God Government doesn't work like you say it does."

"Ya just think it doesn't. I bet it does."

"I think that's the Romantic view, Miriam."

Miriam sniffed. "I _am not_ a Romantic."

"Closet-Romantic," Shamin muttered under her breath, walking over along the wall. "Did you know in Egypt they have the history written on the wall? Do you think they have that here?"

"Is this Egypt?" Miriam paused. "All of Egypt?"

"Well, those Pyramids, right?"

"Are ya sure **ya** got the facts right?" Shamin snorted, thinking that Miriam should be questioning her own facts. Plastic horse, ha! "Where'd ya read that anyway?"

Shamin shrugged, looking closer at the wall. Nope, no pictures of these walls.

"Pika," Pikachu moaned, stomping into the room. Pyro looked no happier, eyes narrowed in determined annoyance.

"No luck, huh?" Miriam asked. Pikachu shook her head. "We're not doin' any better. Like he just disappeared. And he didn't get abducted, okay!" she snapped at Shamin.

Her mouth closed sharply. "I wasn't going to say that," she muttered after awhile. Miriam looked at her skeptically.

"Chuka pika pikachu chu!" Pikachu implored, pointing at Ash's bag just outside.

"No," Miriam sighed. "We've been over this, okay?"

Pikachu crossed her arms. "Chu pikachu pika pika chu chu pikachu!"

Miriam narrowed her eyes. "No-o."

"Pikachu!" she snapped, stomping her foot and little bolts escaping her cheeks. "Ka—"

A soft growl stopped her in the midst of the attack. Pyro sat daintily on his hunches, not even in a stance for attack, eyeing her dangerously. "Nine."

She whirled on him savagely. "Ka! Pikachu pika pikachu Chuka!"

The eyes softened briefly, but returned to their harden sheen. "Tale ninetale ni."

Pikachu sagged, her ears dropping despondently. To win an argument again Miriam was as likely as—as nothing. To win against Pyro, that was even less likely. Miriam didn't understand that the Pokémon would obey them in order to find Pikapi. They would go by land, by sea, by . . . air!

"PIKA!" she exclaimed, jumping up and scaring everyone, including Pyro, which in itself was a feat rarely accomplished. He sent smoke at her through his nostrils.

"Ta—" Pyro stopped, seeing her excitement. He raised a fox eyebrow at her. "Ni?"

She ignored him, running over to Shamin and pulling on her pant's leg. "What's wrong, Pikachu?"

"She's cracked."

Pikachu glared at Miriam's smirk, then climbed up Shamin to grab the only Pokéball on the girl's belt. "Hey! Pikachu!" The mouse held up the ball proudly. "Miriam! I can use my Pidgey!"

"That bird Pyro almost ate?" At that Pyro sat up and licked his lips hungrily.

Shamin nodded, clutching the ball like it was gold. "We could have it search by air! And it's mine, so if it gets lost it's my fault. And you can't say no, because it's mine!"

Miriam crossed her arms. "I can say 'no' to anything."

"But now I don't have to listen," Shamin said smugly, juggling the ball. Then she looked uncertain. "How do I get it to come out?"

Pikachu shook her head sadly. "Pika! Chupi, pikachu chu!" She acted like she was tossing out an imaginary Pokéball.

"All right." Shamin brought back her arm, then whipped it forward. The ball was almost out of her hand when she gripped it tightly. Pyro still leaped into the air, right where the ball would have been.

"Miriam!"

Miriam smiled, scooping up the indignant fox. "Nice try, Pyro."

Shamin put her hands on her hips. "You're not gonna let him try and eat my Pidgey, are you?"

Miriam just smiled. "Continue."

Casting a dubious glance at the two, Shamin threw back her hand and this time released the ball. When the Pidgey fluttered in the air, she clasped her hands. "Isn't it cute!" The bird, even though it was a bit too large, sat on her outstretched arm. Its chest was puffed out with pride.

"Umm . . . no," Miriam said, looking at the tiny plain bird with a smidgen of disgust. The Pidgey looked downtrodden.

"Miriam! You hurt its feelings! Apologize." She petted its wing to reassure the bird that it was very pretty in her opinion.

Miriam scoffed. "Have it do whatever it's supposed to do."

Shamin frowned at Miriam. "She didn't mean it."

"Did too."

"Ignore her," Shamin advised the bird. Pidgey looked at Miriam and Pyro, suddenly cowering when the fox 'smiled'. "And Pyro. He won't hurt you—"

"Wanna bet?" Pyro licked his lips.

"Unless he wants to have his chops glued shut!"

"Empty threat," Miriam whispered to Pyro, who looked taken back at the threat.

"Wanna bet?" Shamin smiled evilly. "Now, Pidgey—do you want a different name? Isn't it stupid to call it by it's species?" Pidgey tilted its head, interested at its new Trainer.

"Hence why Blondie does it," Miriam sighed. "Think of a name later. Just have it do sky patrol."

Shamin nodded. "Okay . . . Pidgey, could you do us a little favor?"

It cooed at her.

"You remember that boy would helped heal those burns when Pyro tried to eat you?" Pidgey shuddered at the memory. "We want you to fly around and try and find him. He disappeared and we can't find him."

It nodded and took to the air with a strong gust of wind that brought dust up around them.

Pyro followed it with hungry eyes. "Niii."

"Oh, shut up!" Shamin sighed.

****

Ash clung to the branch. Obviously whatever he was did not climb trees. Of course, the plus side of this was that those Hyaena didn't climb trees either. And they didn't jump as well as he did. He stuck his tongue out at them.

"Raa!" he gloated.

They bared their fangs at him.

Ash slipped a bit, and suddenly discovered a very big flaw with this plan.

He could not stay up this tree forever. Those Hyaena could stay down there for a long time. And, as said before, he was not a tree-climbing Pokémon.

He slipped again.

"Wahh!" he moaned, clutching the branch tighter.

This was not a good day.

****

Pikachu jumped up and down from her perch. "Chupi! Chu pikachu!"

Shamin looked up, a bit surprised, for it hadn't been gone long. "There it—do you think it's a girl or boy?" she asked Miriam, pointing up. "And it's carrying something!"

"Land ya stupid bird!" Miriam yelled as Pidgey circled. In response, Pidgey dropped what it was carrying on Miriam's face. "Hey, that was uncalled for!"

"It's not gonna come down with Pyro watching it like that," Shamin said, picking up the fox. "Hey, that's Shan's shirt!"

Miriam peeled it from her face. "Yeee," she said, holding it out and raising her nose at it. "It's dirty."

"Hey, Pidgey! Can you show us where you found this?" Shamin called. The bird nodded, veering off. "Come on, Miriam," she said, running off.

"Pi!"

Miriam didn't leave as quickly as the others, studying the shirt intently. A long tear and several small rips were everywhere. She bit her lip, slightly worried. The fact that there was no blood gave her a small comfort, but the dampness made it smaller for the blood could have been washed out. She seriously doubted he just took the shirt off, especially in this weather.

"Chuka?" Pikachu asked, breaking through her thoughts. When the mouse saw that Miriam wasn't behind, she had a very terrible feeling that Miriam found something wrong with the shirt.

"Chu pikachu Pikapi?"

The woman tossed the shirt into a bag quickly, putting on a brave smile. "Come on, Rodent. Let's go find Blondie."

Pikachu nodded, a big smile on her face. "Pika!"

"In one piece," Miriam prayed quietly.

****

Ash whimpered as he scampered back onto his thin branch. His muscles shook at the action. The Hyaena grinned mockingly up at him.

He couldn't figure out which was worse: The Hyaenas' hunger . . . or his.

As if on cue, his stomach growled again. The Hyaenas' taunting laughter ran in his ears.

****

Miriam caught up to the little ring. Pidgey was sitting high up on a branch, eyes focused on Pyro's every movement as he sniffed the ground. "Well?"

Shamin sighed, standing up. "Only a few hoofprints. And Pyro can't find a scent." She stomped the ground. "This is pathetic!"

"Well, so it Blondie," Miriam said with false lightness. Both Shamin and Pikachu glared at her.

"Tough crowd."

Pyro raised his head, twitching his ears. "Nine nii?" he demanded Pikachu.

She jumped at the question, but tilted her ears to listen. And she nodded her agreement. Pyro snorted savagely.

"What's wrong with him?" Shamin sighed. "Got another bur under his tail?" Shan had had a problem with that, as had Pyro. Miriam had been out buying—okay, stealing—food, and Pyro had managed to get into a scuffle with a local Pokémon. He won, of course, but at a price. His coat was covered with burs, and neither the fox nor Shan enjoyed peeling out the seeds. Pyro was not a patient or forgiving—no _duh_!—Pokémon, but Shan had taken the bites and burns without much complaint. He didn't bother telling Miriam why he looked like a mummy when she returned either. Pyro still hadn't forgiven the boy for yanking "so hard".

Pikachu pulled on Miriam's leg in an effort to say that they should get back to camp, quickly.

"Chu pika."

Pyro was growling, fangs bared. "What's wrong, Pyro?" Miriam asked, concerned as she knelt down by him to rest a worried hand on him. His muscles were tense.

Even Pidgey was edgy, Shamin noticed. They knew something was up, and Shamin perked her eyes as well. She caught what they heard, or so she figured. "Hey, Miriam. Listen. Hear that?"

Miriam titled her head. "Sounds like laughing," she muttered, then made a face. "Disgusting laughter."

"Let's go have a look," Shamin said, dashing off quickly. "Maybe Shan's over that way."

All of the Pokémon literally leaped up in surprise at her dashing off. Pyro spat some Pokémon curse and ran after her, Pikachu at his heels. Even Pidgey took off. Miriam blinked.

"This does not bode well," she said, following the troupe as well, but at a slower pace. The Pokémon would keep Shamin out of trouble. Miriam's mind drifted over what she had just learned. Well, the boy was—

Shamin screamed.

"Oh, shit!" Miriam yelped, running like the hounds of Hell were after her.

****

Ash barely noticed when one of the Hyaena looked away from his, so busy gripping the branch. He even had a twig in his mouth. But he did hear the scream, and he quickly turned his head to find the source. A girl backed up against a tree while the Hyaena focused their attention on her.

He blinked, for the girl sparked an important glimmer of familiarity to him. What, Ash was unsure, but it was there.

_Oh, who cares! The Hyaena aren't paying attention to you now. Run!_ part of him commanded.

He struggled to get down quietly, but he ended up falling ungracefully into a heap. His leg muscles cramped, but he forced himself to stand up and start to slip away.

The girl was crying, and Ash looked at her again. The Hyaena should have attacked by now, but he saw that she was being protected by two little creatures, an off-white on and a yellow one. Whenever a Hyaena came too close, each would attack. How, Ash wasn't sure, because the ring of Hyaena blocked his view. Burnt fur reached his nose.

He took another step towards safety.

A bird dive-bombed, and strong winds attacked the Hyaena.

Ash shook his head. Why was this so hard to walk away from?

A very quiet voice answered. _Because it's murder._

The other half argued, _What the Hell was murder? You're a bloody Pokémon! Pokémon don't Murder!_

_Are you?_

He shook his head. What was wrong with his head? It was like there were two . . . _creatures_ arguing. Both were right, but both were definitely wrong.

Ash looked back at the figure, feeling that sense of familiarity strike again. Another woman broke through into his line of sight.

_I have to do something,_ he thought as the mouse delivered a déjà vu Thunderbolt. The fox started to protect the newcomer.

_You do something and you'll end up the main course._

Ash whimpered.

He never actually reached a conclusion as he barked at the Hyaena. Some turned to look at him, and he stuck his tongue out and waved his rear at them. Tongues lolled out, some started to advance on him. Ash stood his ground.

_Now how does that Death prayer go?_ Ash cursed his mind.

_Oh, Ye of little faith. This isn't Death._

Ash mentally nodded.

_This is SUICIDE!_

****

"Are ya all right?" Miriam demanded, dashing over to Shamin as the whatever-kind-of-Pokémon-they-were started to go over to the new, suicidal Pokémon.

Shamin nodded mutely, face wet.

"Come on. Let's go!"

"Miriam! We can't!" Shamin protested as the elder started to drag her away. Pikachu and Pyro looked at her in shock. "We have to help that Pokémon!"

"Are ya crazy!" Miriam hissed.

"Miriam! It only came out to save us! We owe it!"

"Pika!" Pikachu suddenly said. Pyro looked at her, appalled.

"Did ya steal Blondie's frinkin' _MORALS_!"

"Miriam!"

Miriam avoided the eyes. "We got three tiny Pokémon! No way we can beat them teeth things!"

"NINE!" Pyro said angrily, fur bristling at her accusation.

Too late Miriam realized her mistake. "I mean, they out—no, they're bigg—no, oh, we're not fightin' them!"

"So we're gonna let them eat that brave Pokémon!" Shamin demanded hotly.

"They didn't beat them before!" Miriam shot back, glaring at Pikachu and Pyro. "And don't deny it!"

Pyro growled at her, then turned on his hind legs. Pikachu followed.

"You battle with Pyro," Shamin ordered. "I'll use Pikachu and Pidgey."

Miriam sagged. "I don't know any frinkin' attacks!" she muttered under her breath.

****

Ash took a step back and the Hyaena took a step forward. He barked at them in the stupid hope that they'd get scared and run away. So far it wasn't working.

He leaped back when a bolt of lighting shot down in front of him.

"Not so close to the deer, Pikachu! Um, Pidgey, blow up some wind!"

"No wait! Pyro, torch that patch of grass! Shamin, now blow the fire towards the creatures!"

"Right! You heard her!"

A smoke film started to come up around Ash, and a fire started to creep up dead parts of the trees. The Hyaena backed into a tight huddle, growling and leaping. At every leap, a thunderbolt stopped them. Ash coughed, blinking his eyes rapidly. The fire now blocked his retreat and the Hyaena were getting closer to him. Only now they weren't that interested in him.

The heat was growing unbearable, and he coughed violently as the smoke built up into his lungs.

"They're running!"

"Duh! Now put out that fire before the whole forest gets torched."

"Um . . ."

"Shamin!"

"Sorry! Pidgey, can you like blow dirt on the fire?"

Ash fell to his knees, the smoke and heat seriously getting to him. Even the sudden wind the started to vacuum up smoke didn't help. He gagged and forced himself to stay conscious.

"Miriam, it's hurt!" He struggled to his feet, but fell.

"Excuse me, I ain't no nurse. What am I supposed to do?"

"Do you think Shan would mind if we used some of those Potions he has?"

"Honey, I think he'd mind it we didn't. But how we gonna get the potion to it. It's kinda big."

"Right. I'll just capture it for a while, then we can release it." A pause. "Pikachu, how do you capture a Pokémon?"

"_Ka_?!"

"Sorry! How'd Shan do it again? Umm, Pokéball something?"

Ash barely managed to open his eyes in time to see an orb coming at him, and red energy circling him. With a strangled cry of panic, he felt a tingling encompass his body, and then brought into a quiet darkness.

****

Miriam held up the Pokéball. "I wonder what it's like in there," she murmured.

Shamin shuffled through Ash's bag, taking out several bottles of Potion he carried around.

"Can't be that great. Shan said Pikachu refuses to go in one."

"Pi," Pikachu agreed.

"But why not? Claustrophobic?"

"Well, you never put Pyro in a Pokéball," Shamin said. Pyro looked at her with murder in his eyes. No way in Hell he wanted to go in one of them!

Miriam put her hands on her hips. "And why should I?"

Shamin looked between the two. "Oh, forget it. Which one should I use?"

"The most expensive one," Miriam said evilly, scooping up Pyro and petting his head lovingly.

"That'll teach Blondie."

Picking up the Potion, Shamin smiled as well. "Would you release it?"

"Wha—oh yes," Miriam said, shuffling Pyro to get the ball from her pocket. "Now I bet I just push this lil' button, and WHOA DAMN!" She leaped back as the ball opened and dispersed the energy right at her, practically dropping the ball as well.

Ash blinked his eyes and looked up from the ground, agitated. That was severely uncalled for, putting him in one of them whatever-they-weres. He tried to stand up, but his shaky legs wouldn't support him.

"Easy, there," Shamin cooed, stepping closer.

"Careful," Miriam warned, watching the Pokémon snarl quietly at Shamin. He snapped at her.

"He's probably a mean one."

"I wasn't planning on feeding it my arm, Miriam. And I think he's just scared. It's all right."

He backed up as much as he could, which wasn't very much. Ash gave her a pitiful bark in an effort to scare her away. Miriam laughed.

"Do it again! That was cute!"

He snapped at her, which caused Pyro to growl at him.

"Don't worry Pyro. It's just a whittle baby." She laughed as the hairs bristled.

"Miriam, stop provoking it!" Shamin scolded. "I'm trying to give it this Potion!"

Miriam tried to look innocent, but failed miserably.

"Pika," Pikachu reassured Ash. He glared at her, and blinked at a fleeting memory. He tilted his head at confusion.

"Keep talking to it, Pikachu," Shamin whispered as she crawled closer.

"Chu pikachu?" He looked at her blankly, still trying to figure out what was so familiar about the mouse. Also he didn't understand a word she said. "Pika pikachu pika pika?"

"Nine," Pyro said sarcastically from Miriam's arms, then leaped down. "Tail nine ni."

"Chu!" Pikachu scolded Pyro, who just smiled evilly. She looked back at Ash. "Ka pikachu pika," she apologized.

Ash merely looked at her unconcerned, then turned his head at Shamin, who was trying to do a sneak attack. He bared his teeth slightly, and she laughed weakly.

"Hi there," she smiled with all the innocence she could muster. "Look, I'm just gonna give you this little Potion. It shouldn't hurt, I think. Just be a good whatever-you-are and not bite me, okay?"

Miriam rolled her eyes, and grabbed a branch. "Hey there, fella. Hungry?" She waved it in front of his eyes, and they, as predicted, followed greedily. "Okay, Shamin. Go ahead."

Shamin nodded and crawled closer, always eyeing to make sure the Pokémon's attention was still diverted from her. Carefully she set a hand on his flank. The head snapped back like a shot.

"How does Shan do this?" she asked through gritted teeth and a forced smile.

"Look at the branch, pretty deer. Come on," Miriam coaxed. "Don't bite Shammy's nose off. Even if it wouldn't be too hard."

"My nose isn't that long," Shamin muttered, rubbing the feature self-consciously.

Ash looked between the two, a sense of something coming over him. He had to think about this.

Shamin felt him shiver under her hand. "Hey, it's all right." He set his head down and closed his eyes in deep thought. Shamin blinked, but pressed her advantage. "Here ya go." Carefully she shot the Potion into the creature, who didn't even flinch. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

He opened his eyes and looked at the troupe surrounding him. What was it about these people that brought the sense of acquaintance to him? He sighed hopelessly.

****

"Hungry?" Shamin pleaded, shoving a bowl of Miriam's home cooking next to the deer with a stick.

"Oh, that looks like ya really care about him," Miriam smiled as she sipped her glass of water.

"Givin' him food with a stick. Real friendly."

Shamin sat back on her legs and looked at the deer, which hadn't even budged since they had given it the Potion. "Do you think the Potion's actually working?"

Miriam shrugged. "Maybe they have an expiration date, good only for so long. But I figure Blondie would know that." She paused. "I wonder if the huntin' party's doin' okay."

Worry crossed Shamin's face, but she forced it away. "I bet Shan could figure out what's wrong with it."

"Maybe."

"I wonder what kind of Pokémon he is," Shamin muttered.

"Ya do have a Poképedia," was a gentle reminder.

Shamin blushed slightly, reaching into her pocket and holding it upside-down to open it. It used to stick something furious, but, after she **accidentally** put too much oil on it, the cover rarely stayed closed now. She probably shouldn't have put the stickers on it either.

The choppy voice met her ears. (Shamin hoped it was like that before she left it in her pocket for the washing.) "Po-ké-mon—Rat-wa: In-for-ma-tion a-bout this Po-ké-mon is larg-ly un-known. This is be-cause this Po-ké-mon has not been seen since the dis-solve of the Rat-wa Lea-gue. Past re-cords in-di-cat this Po-ké-mon was an im-port-ant part of the Rat-wa Lea-gue Com-pet-ition for the com-pet-ing train-er. How is un-known, for Rat-wa Mast-ers guar-ded Leag-ue pro-ceed-ings heav-ily. The Po-ké-mon Rat-wa has be-lieved to be-come ex-tinct with-out the pro-tec-tion of the Leag-ue, for their fur made ve-ry soft and sty-lish cl-oaks that we-re pop-u-lar at one poi-nt of time."

"Whoa," Shamin muttered, peering closer at the "Ratwa". "This is a rare Pokémon!"

Miriam grinned wickedly. "Just think how much money we could get if we sell him!"

"Miriam! We're not selling him to some zoo!"

"Why not?"

Shamin crawled closer to the Ratwa, which had raised its head to listen to the Pokédex spew pointless information about it. "Well, it's the last one, maybe. It wouldn't be happy behind some bars."

"If they were candy—"

"Oh, be serious!"

Miriam blew her hair out of her eyes. "Shamin. I _am_ bein' serious. Let's say this _is_ the last Ratwa. Ya saw them other big teeth Pokémon. If ya hadn't come along, whittle Ratty would have gotten eaten. This Pokémon, for one, looks young _and_ stupid, and I seriously doubt if he'll survive to be big and smart. And, if this is the last Ratwa, what's he gonna mate with? Don'tcha need two Ratwas make a Baby Ratwa?"

Shamin looked helpless. "Do you think so?"

She shrugged. "I'm just guessing. Don't know anythin' about Pokémon breedin'. But I think so."

"Then we can't just let him go, huh?"

"Well, we can," Miriam said lightly, helping herself to another bowl of food. "He is a wild Pokémon, after all."

Shamin nodded sadly, then thought about what she had just learned. "Wait a minute. My Pokédex said this Pokémon was important to the League Competition."

"So?"

"Look at the timing!" Shamin ticked the reasons on her hand. "Shan just disappeared, no clue where he is or whatever. He wanted to compete in this League. And lo-and-behold, here's a possibly extinct Pokémon that this _League_ used! This Pokémon has got to be part of why Shan's gone!"

Miriam paused in mid-gulp, staring at the innocent-looking Ratwa. "Possibly," she admitted after a long moment.

Shamin jumped up. "Possibly? Come on! This is it, the whole reason! Maybe he has to find this Pokémon or capture it or something!"

"Maybe."

"Miriam! Admit it. This is too much of a coincidence. And you don't believe in that anyway! I bet you Shan has to capture that Pokémon or something. It's so fast, probably."

"He doesn't have any Pokémon with him," Miriam said off-handedly. "Or Pokéballs, or his Poképedia."

"Well, maybe just see it then," Shamin said, not to be put off. "See, this means he's all right! As soon as he finds this little guy, it's done. Or until he gives up, like that'll happen. But still!" Suddenly she stopped and smacked her hand against her head, brushing back her long bangs.

"Whoa!"

"Whoa, what?" Miriam asked suspiciously.

"If all he has to do is capture this guy—" she was chuckling evilly—"well, we've already done that! And were aren't even competing! Isn't that cool?"

Miriam rolled her eyes. "Sure."

****

Both Pikachu and Pyro eyed the Ratwa suspiciously while Miriam and Shamin toured the building for abstract clues as to what was going on.

"_I don't trust him_," Pyro snarled.

"_You don't trust anybody_," Pikachu reminded him.

Pyro's nostrils quivered. "_I can't smell him!"_

"_I know. Why is that?_"

The fox flicked his tails. "_Newborn deer don't give off a scent. They don't have one. It's to protect them from dangerous animals that'd eat them. But this one isn't a newborn. Too big and developed._"

Pikachu nodded. "_Do you think he knows where Pikapi is?_"

"_Shamin does._" Pyro looked at the worried mouse and edited his statement, because Shamin also knew how to cook, and that didn't mean you ate what she slapped on your plate. "_I figure he's part of why Blondie's gone missing. So he's not totally bad, I suppose._"

She ignored the last statement. "_He won't talk to me_."

"_That's because you're annoying_."

"_And you're—oh, never mind._" Pikachu looked at the Ratwa, who was cleaning his fur.

"_Are you sure he's not a baby?_"

"_Yes,_" Pyro said exasperatedly.

Pikachu looked over at him. "_Do you think he's ignoring us?"_

"_Can't ignore me. I'm too pretty. Miriam says so._" Pyro looked full of pride, then narrowed his eyes curiously as the deer cleaned himself. "_I wonder if he gets hairballs."_

"_That's cats_."

Pyro nodded. "_Yes. I don't get hairballs."_

"_You don't lick yourself clean, either. Chuka brushes you_."

"_Do you know where I've been?!_" Pyro asked in a horrified voice. "_What I've rolled in?"_

"_You wouldn't roll in anything, and you know it_," Pikachu said offhandedly. _"You like being clean too much. Besides, Chuka would disapprove_."

Pyro's fur bristled. "_Miriam does not control me, I'll have you know_."

"_Of course not_," Pikachu muttered. "_I'm going to go talk to him again_."

"_She doesn't_!" Pyro yelled at her retreating back, stomping his paw. "_She just spoils me! And there is a difference_!"

"_Hello_," Pikachu said to the Ratwa. "_Are you feeling better_ now?"

The Ratwa looked up at her with his big brown eyes, still licking his thigh.

Pikachu inched closer, nose bobbing. "_Do you even understand me_?"

Lick. Lick.

"_Do you know where Pikapi is_?" Pikachu whispered, lest Pyro or the girls heard her, even from in the building.

The licking paused, and the Ratwa raised his head to look at her with unblinking eyes. He tilted his head slightly, as if what she said struck a cord in him.

Pikachu's hope climbed a few steps. "_Have you seen him_?" She then paused and asked a better question_. "Do you even know what he looks like_?"

The Ratwa seemed almost to think about the question, studying her intently. Pikachu held her breath, waiting for his answer . . . He went back to cleaning himself.

"_Ohh_!" Pikachu growled, almost shocking the creature. She advanced closer on him, upset at his mean trickery. He was even worse than Pyro. "_You . . . you mean Pokémon_!"

He ignored her again, content in licking.

She shocked his nose. It wasn't a very high voltage shock, but it showed that she was upset. The Ratwa jumped and gave a little bark, looking at her reproachfully. His nose was a very sensitive area. "_That'll show you_!" she snapped. "_You should—_"

Pikachu was cut off by the Ratwa's long pink tongue going over her face.

"_Hey!"_

His eyes danced, and he licked her again in an effort of apology. Pikachu leaped away.

"_Knock it off_!"

The Ratwa looked at her, a bit hurt at her reaction and tone. Pikachu sighed.

"_You shouldn't lick strangers. You . . . you don't know where I've been_." The Ratwa didn't look any happier at her excuse, and he looked away from her as if to pretend she wasn't there.

"_Oh, don't act that way_!"

He continued to ignore her.

"_You are a very bullheaded creature . . . like my Pikapi._" She sagged and sniffed, closing her eyes to keep from crying. She really missed him.

The Ratwa looked at her out of the corner of his eye, then stood up and walked quietly over to her. He nudged her in a friendly, reassuring sort of way with his nose. Pikachu's eyes shot open—she hadn't even heard him get up, he was so quiet—and she looked into his big, brown eyes. She sniffed, and the Ratwa made some sort of trilling-purr noise. He nudged her again.

"_You're sweet. Stupid, but sweet._"

He got down on his knees to lie down again, and licked her again. Pikachu didn't move this time, allowing him to attempt to comfort her. Surprising, it did give her some, and she sighed, resting between his knees. His tongue went up her back and to her head.

"_Hey, that tickles!"_ she laughed when he went up her ear. He paid her no mind and continued licking, much like a mother Persian ignores the antics of her kittens as she cleans them.

"_Don't clean my ears!"_

"_This is so sickening_," Pyro said, coming over from his corner.

Pikachu smiled at him, feeling the tongue come up her forehead. "_Done sulking?"_

He snorted. "_I don't sulk. I think . . . deeply_." Pyro's eyes sparkled dangerously, daring her to contradict. "_You get anything out of him?"_

She shook her head. "_No. But I think he's apologizing to me._"

Pyro made a face. "_Remind me to make sure he can't insult me. That's yucky."_

"_Actually, it feels kind of nice, like when my mom used to clean me."_ Pikachu sighed.

He was dangerously quiet. Pyro had no such memories that he could remember while awake.

"_Really?"_ he said icily. Pikachu nodded, not noticing his sudden flare of temper, allowing the Ratwa to clean under her chin. "_Stupid creature_."

"_Me or him_?" she asked lightly.

"_Can't decide_." Pyro sat in silence, surveying the scene with slight disgust. After a few minutes, rolling his eyes, Pyro walked closer. "_I think he's going to eat you_."

"_He's a herbivore_."

"_So he wants you to believe_," Pyro said darkly, slapping the deer with his tails. The Ratwa stopped licking Pikachu and looked over at him curiously. "_He hasn't eaten anything yet. He's probably getting a taste for you."_

_"You're a suspicious ass, ya know_?" Pikachu scolded.

"_You do notice I'm still alive, though. What are you looking at?"_ Pyro demanded harshly, meeting the Ratwa's level gaze. The Ratwa didn't flinch at the tone, licking the fox in the face and messing up the fur pattern. "_Yuck! Eat the fricking Rodent, not me_!"

Pikachu laughed. "_He's not gonna eat you, Pyro_."

Pyro ran a paw over his face to realign his fur, glaring at the Ratwa. "_Disgusting_!" He barely dodged aside when the Ratwa tried to lick him again. "_Stop that_!"

The Ratwa eyes danced, and he made a grab for Pyro again.

"_He's playing with you!"_ Pikachu smiled.

Pyro looked hard at Pikachu. "_Well, I don't want to—eww!"_ He growled at the Ratwa—who look immensely proud a having got one on the nimble fox—and didn't bother to move as he was licked again. "_This is so unsanitary."_

"_Oh, don't be such a baby_."

"_I am not being—hey, watch the fur! With the grain, with the grain, idiot_!" The Ratwa paid the command no mind, moving closer to the fox to wash him better. "_Stupid. Even Shamin knows that._"

Pikachu shook her head, resting next to the Ratwa and half-listening to Pyro give his pointless complaints.

****

"Well that was—"

"Aww! Miriam, look!" Shamin said gleefully, pointing over at the trio.

"What? Oh, lordy, I don't believe it," Miriam muttered, looking at her sleeping fox, still being licked by the Ratwa.

"It's so key-ute!" Shamin cooed.

"A Kodak moment. Do we have a camera?"

Miriam, still wondering if that was her Pyro, nodded slightly. "I think Blondie bought one," she muttered, remembering Blondie's mention of sending pictures home to his family. Pikachu she could understand being friendly, but her little fox? He must be sick.

"Oh, wait until Shan see this!" Shamin laughed, clicking the camera.

"It works better with the lens cap off," Miriam said dryly.

Shamin let out a low whistle as she slipped the thing off. "An _expensive_ camera."

"Which means I don't think ya should use it."

"Ha ha."

****

"I think he likes ya," Miriam smiled, watching as the Ratwa—Shamin had dubbed him Dilly—followed the girl around.

Shamin rolled her eyes. "No. He just wants another peppermint. He likes them." She pushed Dilly off her as he tried to dig into her pocket. "Get off!"

"How old are those candies again?"

"I wouldn't eat them," Shamin said, making a face.

"Then give 'em to him."

"He'd get sick if he eats the whole bag. He has no self-control. I said no!" she said firmly, hands on her hips and looking sternly at Dilly. He looked up at her with his big, brown eyes.

"Not the eyes!"

"Now ya know how I feel," Miriam smiled, petting Pyro.

Dilly kept her eyes fixed on her, and soon was rewarded for perfecting this face. He trotted just into a thicket of trees, happily sucking the hard candy.

"Stupid deer," Shamin muttered.

"Ya notice he only begs ya, cuz he knows ya'll give in." Shamin rolled her eyes. "Well, yar own fault. Ya had to give him one so he'd like ya. And now ya can't get rid of him."

"At least he doesn't chew them. I'd never get rid of him then." She unrolled her bag and laid down. Miriam followed suit. "I hope Shan gets back soon. This place is boring."

Miriam nodded slightly as Pyro slipped next to her. Pikachu snuggled next to Shamin. "Did ya ever name yar bird?"

Shamin rolled on her stomach to look at her. "Didn't I tell you?"

"No, I don't think so. Or I wasn't payin' attention."

"The second."

"_No_!" Miriam teased.

"_Yes."_

Miriam smiled. "So what did ya name him—her—it?"

"Angel." Shamin bit her lip. "Do you think it's too feminine. I don't want to name it that if it's actually a boy. It could scar it for life."

"Shamin, it's a bird. Ya can't scar it."

"But is the name too girly?"

Miriam rolled her eyes. "Well, it shouldn't matter. Did ya know I knew a guy named Ashley?" She whistled at the memory. "_Hot_! Wore _tight_ blue jeans, and had a great ***. Uh-huh." She nodded at the image, a satisfied grin on her face. "Man, and the pecs. Like a washboard, for real. And he could—"

"Miriam, I really don't—"

"And then there was that red-head Stacey . . . Had stamina, I'll tell ya."

Shamin gripped her ears and rolled back onto her back. "Forget I even asked! Good night!"

"That it was," Miriam smirked, sticking out her tongue a bit, looking over at Shamin without moving her head.

"Thank you, Miriam!"

"Welcome. Sleep well."

Shamin rolled her eyes and pulled the cover up. "Same to you."

****

Ash sucked on the waning sliver of the tasty candy. This was good good good. Yummy yum yum. Aww, all gone.

He licked his lips, tasting the tiny traces of the peppermint flavor that had embedded itself in his fur. Closing his eyes, he savored the taste. It thrilled his taste buds.

Tilting his head, Ash tried to look back into the camp-area past his thicket. From his position the fire gave him warmth against the coldness of the night, but the distance showed that he really wasn't part of the group. He felt safe here. No big Pokémon would try and eat him here. The little mouse and fox were great protectors.

Hmm, maybe he should get another candy.

Yep, he should.

Ash stood up and trotted back to the camp and girl who had been giving him the treats. For some reason, she insisted on calling him Dilly. Part of Ash wondered why she bothered, as that wasn't his name, but then he wondered why not. What was his name, by the way? (To clear up this point, the name Ash is used just for the readers' benefit. No one really calls themselves by name subconsciously. Well, at least I don't.) Maybe it was Dilly.

Ash thought about this for a second.

No, he decided, it was definitely _not_ Dilly. That was just silly.

Of course, if the girl had a candy in her hand, she could call him whatever she wanted to.

He warily entered the circle that was The Camp. Everyone appeared to be sleeping, which squashed his hopes a bit. Sleeping people rarely gave you things. Well, maybe he could just _take_ the candy. Yep, he saw no problem with that idea. It was okay. She was going to give them all to him anyway.

Daintily he walked over and sniffed the sleeping bag. Yep, they were in there, he could smell them. Ash's mouth watered at the thought. Now to get them without waking her . . .

Ash tilted his head, carefully planning his strategy. The girl was sleeping on her side, candies not against the ground. That was a plus. But the girl was wrapped tightly in the sleeping bag, leaving no room for him to nose his nose in. Problem. Carefully he started a slow pondering of this, studying the bag. Something shiny caught his attention, and he bent down closer.

It was a little piece of metal that could flop from side-to-side. Interested, Ash gritted it in his teeth and pulled it sideways.

_ZZZIIIIPPP!_

He jumped slightly at the quiet sound, looking fervently around to see if anyone else had heard the sound. No one moved, minus the fox's ears. No one woke, and he sagged with quiet relief, then proceeded to see what damage he had done. Ash was pleasantly surprised when he saw that the fabric had parted ways. Interesting. Pull the little metal thingy and the fabric opens. Very interesting.

And useful too.

Ash proceeded to open the bag a bit more, just enough so that the smell of peppermint was strong in his nostrils. Then, carefully he nosed in, sniffing the pocket. Yep, they were in there. Now, how to get the out? So close, and yet so far! No fair! Ash nudged the pocket, feeling the lumps.

A hand slapped him gently, and Ash leaped back as the girl rolled over. "Go away," she muttered, curling into a ball.

He stood dumbly for a moment, then outraged. Now how was he supposed to get the candies?! He snorted and stomped his hoof, looking around the camp. Suddenly he spotted a bunch of other bags, and his interest perked back up. Maybe there was something in there he could eat.

The pack he approached first also has a metal thingy. He pulled it and started to nose through the contents, pulling out miscellaneous items of fabric. Some were soft and smooth with a lot of frilly stuff that tickled his nose, but most of it was thick and probably very warm. But there wasn't anything he could eat in there. It didn't smell very good either, like a bunch of flowers had died or something. His attention faded.

There was another bag, smaller. This one didn't have a metal thing, but a rope. Ash yanked it, but the bag merely fell over at his jerk. He pawed it, disappointed that he couldn't shuffle though it, then sniffed it with his nose. It smelled different than the other one, a bit nicer, and there was a hint of the peppermint permeating from it. It wasn't strong though, and Ash figured nothing was in there. But, just to be safe, he butted it with his head, trying to break it open with his horns. It only managed to get the rope tangled in his horns, though. He kicked some dirt on it when he freed himself.

There was one other pack left, and Ash sniffed it. No food, although the smell did sound familiar, like he . . . knew it from somewhere. But, since it didn't have food, Ash didn't bother with it. Part of him felt as if it wasn't necessary, either.

Ash frowned at the sleeping girl. It was all her fault. She should just give him the treats! He wanted a candy!

He walked over carefully. He couldn't get the candies by the way she was laying, and he stomped his hoof again. Well, maybe he could . . .

He gently nosed her side, trying to get her roll over again. The girl groaned and waved a hand, but he persisted with his gentle nudge. And, every-so-little, she moved! And what luck! A candy had been forced from her pocket. With a quiet trill, Ash licked it up and started to suck it contently, very pleased at his accomplishment.

Carefully he knelt down next to the girl so that he could get his next candy easily. He got his candies!

Yummy yum!

****

Shamin shivered and gripped the end of her sleeping bag, pulling it over her.

Something pulled it back.

Sleepily she pulled it over her again, but a tug brought it away from her hand. She pried her eyes open with a sluggish, "Huh?"

Something nudged her in the side, and she pushed it away while her eyes blinked the figure into focus. Dilly looked at her. "What are you doing?" she yawned.

He blinked and nudged her side again, specifically her pocket. Shamin groaned.

"Go to sleep," she muttered, rolling onto her side. Dilly nudged her again. "No. Go away."

For a moment, the order seemed to work, but then Shamin felt Dilly lick the side of her face, capturing her hair as well. "Hey!" she snapped, pulling away and scolding the Pokémon with her stare.

Dilly looked at her innocently with his big brown eyes, then made to lick her again.

"No," she said, pushing him away with her hands. "I don't want a deer-kiss!" He made a little trill noise, going back to her pocket. She groaned and sat up a bit so she could reach into her pocket easier. When Dilly say the bag start to emerge, his ears perked up and he tried to help himself. "Patience, Dilly," she yawned. Then she weighed the bag in her hand. It was lighter.

"How many have you had?" she demanded Dilly. He looked innocent, then tried to get one himself when he saw that she wasn't going to give him one. "No. I think you've had enough," Shamin stated.

He whined, and looked at her with his Face.

"No," she said, but he heard the tremble that meant she was wavering. He kept up the face and she finally sighed. "Last one for tonight," she informed him, handing into to him with her fingertips. He took it carefully, licking her fingers to get the last traces of the flavor.

"No more," she said, wiping her hand and lying down again with a yawn. "Now go to sleep."

Dilly set his head down, sucking on the candy. He felt Shamin's hand pet his ears and go down his back, and he trembled under her touch. It felt . . . nice. He moved closer ever so slightly.

"Good night, Dilly," Shamin murmured, closing her eyes but still petting him.

With his eye, he watched her sleeping face. She was nice. Stupid, but nice. Once he finished his candy, accidentally swallowing the last sliver, he licked her straight across the face. Shamin's eyes shot open.

"Eww. Don't you ever kiss me again, understand," she scolded, wiping her face. "Now sleep!"

Dilly tilted his head, studying her face while she tried to drift back to sleep. He knew her from somewhere, Dilly thought. Yes, he did. But where? Or when?

He yawned. Whatever.

****

"What's wrong with Dilly?" Miriam asked nastily, cooking breakfast.

"Too many peppermints," Shamin smiled, looking at the profoundly sick Ratwa.

"He got into my bag last night. I told you he had no self-control."

Miriam snorted. "Serves him right. Did ya see what he did to my pack? No, ya didn't. Were still asleep."

Shamin tilted her head. "What'd he do?"

"Oh," Miriam started, glaring at the sick Pokémon. "I guess he just thought it was fun to throw out all my clothes for the whole forest to see. In the mud. And walk on 'em."

"Is a little trouble-maker, isn't he?" Shamin teased.

"And getting' his just deserts," Miriam snarled. "I hope he stays sick a long time!"

"Oh, Miriam."

****

"_Okay, the whole point of this game is to—"_

"_This is another stupid game, isn't it?_" Pyro asked wearily from his branch overhead, his tails swinging lazily. It seemed Pikachu had an endless supply of stupid games.

"_Depends what you think is stupid,_" Pikachu countered.

"_Do you like it?"_

Pikachu thought about it. "_Don't know. Passes time, though_."

"_You know what? I'm hungry,_" Pyro stated, standing up.

"_Should have ate_."

"_Did you know there's some Hoot-Hoot nesting around here?_"

Pikachu snorted. "_You could say I've noticed_."

He looked at her curiously, but didn't question what her comment meant. _"Well, I'm gonna get Hoot-Hoot ala Me,_" Pyro said, disappearing into the trees without waiting her to say a protest or good-bye.

She looked up to where he was, then back at the camp. She hated this, just waiting. Chuka and Chupi were positive that Pikapi would come back, and that Dilly had something to do with his disappearance. But how long must they wait? It'd been over six days since he had disappeared.

No one really knew how worried she really was, she hid it so well. Everyone had a small twinge of worry, but she could fill oceans with hers. Pikachu didn't want the others to know, because they would tell her _not _to worry. Well, you don't tell someone not to worry when they knew very well that they should.

Oh, she tried lots of things to occupy her mind, but Pikapi was always in the back of her mind, always unobtrusively there. Pyro didn't understand, and the girls certainly didn't. Chupi, with her child-like faith, was positive that he'd return in time, and that Dilly defiantly was part of it all.

In Pikachu's honest opinion, Chupi was, probably for once in her life, right about one thing: Dilly was part of all this.

Dilly, the Ratwa. He was stupid, stubborn, naïve, and could give the I'm-Innocent Look like a pro. He didn't understand a single word Pyro or she said.

He knew something. Dumb as a box of rocks, and he knew something.

Pikachu used to try and follow him around, but he didn't go anywhere. In fact, he ended up _following_ her around, probably thinking that she was playing a game.

She hated him. Well, okay, she liked the stupid deer. He was sweet, nice to be around. But he was probably the reason Pikapi was gone. And she'd hate him for it.

Chupi, on the other hand, loved the deer, even if he was involved with Pikapi's disappearance. She managed to teach him a few tricks like sit, dance, and shake, like the deer was some common Growlithe. (Dilly must have no pride, Pikachu thought, because he did the tricks.) Chupi must have thought Dilly was a puppy, it was the only excuse Pikachu could think of that would cause the girl to teach the deer those tricks. She lavished the deer unspoken amounts of attention. It wasn't fair.

Okay, maybe Pikachu was a tad jealous that Shamin was paying more attention to the deer that to h—worrying about Pikapi. But the girl had her priorities messed up. And her head, but Pikachu didn't bother going into that area.

_Ooh, where are you, Pikapi?_

****

Miriam looked sternly at Shamin. "Ya fed that damn deer some of our rations, didn't ya?"

"I didn't feed him them!" Shamin argued. "He found and ate them! He must have figured out that just because they didn't smell like food, they were."

"And who enlightened him on this fact, huh?" Miriam demanded. From behind her, both Pikachu and Pyro tried to slink away unnoticed.

"I didn't!"

"Well, there's only two of us here," Miriam snapped.

"I didn't!" Shamin repeated, but she could tell there was no way she was sliding off this hook.

"Well, what do you want me to do, huh? Grow a garden?"

Miriam tossed her a bag. "Well, since _yar_ Pokémon ate our food, I guess _ya_ had better get walkin'. If I remember correctly, that city was a good day's travel," she said nastily.

Shamin gripped the bag and looked at Miriam in shock. "You're kidding me! I'm not walking all the way to that city! Alone!"

"Oh, yeah ya are. Yar Pokémon was the one who ate our food."

"He's not mine!" Shamin whined. Miriam looked at her hard. "Alone?"

"Take Rodent and Pyro," Miriam said. "All Rodent does is mope anyway, and Pyro needs a change of scenery." Miriam suddenly smiled. "Besides, wild Pokémon can't be prosecuted for stealin' food."

Shamin smiled as well. "Dilly can—"

"No!" Miriam yelled. "That stupid deer'll get shot. He's too big and friendly." She snapped her fingers and whistled. Pyro came bounding out like he was innocent. "Ya're gonna go with Shammy, k?" Miriam cooed.

Relieved that he wasn't in trouble, Pyro bared a fang smile.

"Go get Rodent, then, ya good boy." Miriam focused her attention back on Shamin as Pyro ran back into the brush. "And don't wander."

Shamin looked at her insolently, then her expression changed as another thought entered her mind. "Do you think Shan'll be back when we get back?"

Miriam sighed. It was probably a good thing Dilly was around. He got into so much trouble that he kept their minds off of worrying about the whole reason they were still here. With him around to divert Shamin's attention, Miriam didn't have Shamin's constant fretting to add to her own gnawing belief that Blondie was _never_ coming back. Miriam mentally shuddered at the thought of both Pikachu and Shamin moping. "I don't know. That's why I'm stickin' around, case he does." She spotted the Pokémon coming over. "Try and get somethin' edible, 'k?"

She smiled weakly, scooping up Pikachu. "We'll try. See ya, um, tomorrow, I guess."

"I guess," Miriam smiled, leaning against a tree to watch them head off. Then she started to clean up the torn food wrappers and toss them into the cooking fire. The smell for burnt plastic made her wish she hadn't. Finally, content in the silence, Miriam twirled a stick in the dirt.

"Rrra?" Dilly trilled, sticking his head back into the camp. When he saw that only Miriam was around, he tried to look humble.

"Came back for more?" Miriam snarled, throwing the stick at him. It missed pathetically, but the rocks she had thrown hat him before hadn't. "Well, there isn't any."

Dilly walked in carefully, glancing over at Miriam every few seconds, and sniffed a bag.

"Nothin' in there," Miriam smiled cruelly. "Ya ate it all, ya Pig." She watched the deer gage her words, surprised that they reached home in his little brain. The deer kicked the ground sadly. Miriam shook her head and snapped her fingers. "Come here, stupid."

He looked at her, startled.

She smiled warmly. "Come on. Get over here. Ya have to deal with me for the next day or so anyway."

Dilly took a worried step forward, but grew braver as he practically leaped the last steps. Miriam rolled her eyes. This guy would never survive in the wild. Too trusting. She sighed as he set his head on her lap and closed his eyes as if to sleep. Smiling, she knocked him on the head hard.

"That'll teach ya," she smiled as he jerked back up. Dilly's eyes narrowed angrily at her action, and he shifted his body so he ended up lying the other way. "The poor baby. No Shamin to stick up for ya, huh?"

He glared at her without moving his head, ears laying back.

Miriam smiled, running her fingers over his ears. He relaxed by degrees, slowly enjoying the attention.

"Stupid."

"Wahhh."

****

Dilly opened with eyes, a cramp in his side. It was dark out, the fire low and dying. He shivered and shifted position, but the pain didn't go away. He gave a small whine as he stood up, looking around the camp. Miriam was asleep on her bag. He had claimed the extra that no one was using.

He was probably just hungry. Yep, that was it. Just hungry. Grass is so unfulfilling, but he'd have to deal with it.

_Deal with it._ Those were Miriam's words of advice for everything, even when she kicked him because he had been following her all day like a "lost puppy".

Shakily he got to his hooves and carefully staggered around in a little circle to get his legs back. Yawning, he started heading out of the camp, past the big building that he wasn't allowed in. He didn't know why.

Dilly had to walk slower than he liked. It was like someone had tied his back leg to his stomach. He moaned in the uncomfortable pain, but kept walking. A bird flew overhead, but he paid it no mind. The wind rustled the leaves, causing a few to swirl around him.

Suddenly he stopped and looked at the building, perking his ears. What was the sound?

Interested, he looked back to make sure Miriam was still asleep, then climbed the stairs up. He peered into the dark building, slowly entering with his less-than-graceful walk. Yes, there was a noise of some sort coming from inside. With his usual curious interest, he walked in, carefully stepping over each fallen pillar. He stuck his head in each passageway that he passed, even though nothing was in there. Even though the pain was still in his side, the more he moved the less he noticed it.

Finally he got to the last room and peeped in. It was dark, totally dark, and he couldn't see anything. The noise still danced in his ears, and Dilly tilted his head in confusion. Slowly he stepped in, trilling inquisitively, touching his nose against the wall and sniffing it.

It was a foully sweet smell. At first sniff, it made him sick to his stomach, but under it was an interesting fragrance. It was old, and it smelled like another thing's fur, something long since dead but fragranced with incense.

"Silly little deer," a voice smiled.

Dilly didn't jump. It was like he was expecting the voice. He stared into the darkness.

"You seriously cheated, Trainer Ash."

The name struck a note in him, but Dilly shook his head as if to deny the feeling.

"The whole point was to make it on your own, which you obviously wouldn't have done. You're lucky, in a sense, but you deprived yourself of a valuable learning experience. Well, I suppose _you_ didn't deprive _yourself_."

"Wahh?" The talking made his head hurt.

The voice sighed, and a soft pattering came over. Dilly shook his head. That sound was wrong. He heard a fluttering overhead, with a "Hoo-hoo" call. "You didn't even learn any attacks. You didn't learn how hard it is to learn an attack." The voice sounded terribly upset and pitying.

Dilly backed away into the darkness. His head was spinning.

"Of course, maybe you did learn something about Trainer-Pokémon relationships. That does seem to be your strong point, I'll admit." Again the voice sighed. "Maybe this test will help you, but not as much as it should.

"You are one lucky fellow though, Ash. Good friends, good Pokémon." A hand touched Dilly's head, but the weight was so heavy it forced the deer to his knees. "Don't worry."

Dilly knelt trembling, mind whizzing around him. Memories of the past week flew in his brain, and then images he couldn't even place, images from another life. They made him sick and he wanted to throw up, but his deer stomach didn't allow meals to exit the body that way. He curled into a smaller ball, closing his eyes to enter the darkness of his mind.

"It's almost done." The hand ruffled his hair.

He knelt shivering, it was so cold. Something was draped over him, a soft fabric.

"Th-th-thank y-y-you," Ash chatted. Then he blinked and touched his lips in a dull shock" "Wh—?"

"Welcome back to the world and body of Humans," the voice chuckled, removing the hand from his hair.

Ash ran his tongue over his teeth, trying to form words. He looked up into the darkness.

"What happened?"

He could sense the figure in front of him kneel down. "Trainers that compete never remember the test they take. It's for the security of the League. They remember the essence, but not actual events, save maybe as a dream or something similar. It's a way to protect ourselves, playing with their minds."

He ran a shaking hand through his hair. "But I—" He clutched his head in pain and shivered, clutching the fabric closer to him. He off-handedly noticed that he was naked. "It's dark," he finished quietly.

"They say it's better to light a candle than curse the darkness, but I say better dark so you can't see," the voice whispered solemnly.

"See what? You?" He seem to dimly remember how stranger the Trainer had looked before. He had met this guy before, right? He was so unsure. He seemed to act differently than last time . . .

The voice chuckled. "No. Do you have a strong stomach?"

"I think so," Ash whispered, clutching his forehead. "Should I be asking questions?"

There was a silence. "I told you not to," the voice replied at length. "You remember?"

"No." He shivered. "It's cold."

"Just an aftereffect. And the weather." A light flickered on below Ash's face, and the candle was brought up. Ash welcomed the warmth. "Better?"

"No," Ash shivered. The blond-dyed boy looked up to a face of an old and care-worn man, a small grey beard at the end of his chin. The grey eyes looked back in a quiet interest. Ash looked past the man, seeing a figure move. "Is that a Hoot-Hoot?"

"Yes. They create illusions."

Ash looked around. "Is that an illusion?" he whispered, transfixed as the shadows played against the object.

"No."

He gulped and looked at the body of the creature. The deer must have just died in the sprawled position, the stomach slashed open and eyes staring blankly at it. The smell bit his nose.

"What is it?"

"Ratwa's symbol. She's been dead over few hundred years."

"It looks—"

The man nodded, petting the head like it was his favorite pet. Ash watched, appalled. "Killed when the building was stormed those years ago by the citizens."

"Why? What . . . happened?"

"Ratwa was not like it should have been. Thousands of Trainers used to compete everyday. The Masters here, once the Trainers had . . . been initiated, they hunted them like prey. The Trainers didn't have a chance. Casualties were high, almost 95%. And they ate the kill."

Ash looked at him with wide eyes. "Murder?" _Cannibalism?_

"You don't murder Pokémon," the man said lightly, ignoring Ash's confused face. "The people destroyed the League. The Masters were hanged, a light punishment for most who had lost their entire families. Rasha here was killed first, as an end of the Ratwa. The Masters pleaded to leave her live, but all of Ratwa had to be destroyed."

"But it happen so long ago?" Ash whispered, eyes back at the body. They eyes reflected the light and looked right at him.

"You know Pokémon Leagues have that certain magic in them. Well, not magic, like magic, but the actually power of the League. If you would destroy Indigo, every trace possible, the millions of battles fought and lost have to go somewhere. It's like a religious belief that it a bit true. You understand?"

Ash nodded mutely. "I didn't read about . . . that." He nodded towards the deer.

"You wouldn't." He looked at the deer again.

"Did she die . . . okay?" He couldn't find the right word.

The man looked away. "No, she did not. It took her over a day to die. They prolonged it to torture the Masters."

"Why are you here?" Ash asked after it all.

"A Master always manages to escape," the man smiled. "In my case, a novice apprentice." He shrugged. "Runs in the family for a few generations. I come here on my off hours, so to speak."

"Hoot-hoot," the Hoot-Hoot reminded.

The man nodded. "Oh, yes. Here." The man dug into his pocket and withdrew a pouch and small trophy. "Your prize."

Ash picked up the trophy and read the label. "'Ash Satoshi Ketchum'," he murmured, running his finger over the plaque. "'Ratwa League'. You know my name?"

"I know everything about the trainers that come here. You are the fourth this year."

At that Ash looked surprised. "I thought—"

The man laughed. "Don't be naïve, Ash. Trainers all over the world believe the same things you do. And they are drawn here to test their abilities, I suppose. Of course, the numbers grow smaller each passing year."

"Where should I go next?" Ash asked.

"Are you willing to compete Leagues that do worse than the Ratwa ever did?"

Ash couldn't comprehend anything worse than Murder. "I think so."

The man studied Ash for a long moment. "Pooka, as it's the nearest. I won't tell you what it's like, but I think _you_ should go there." He stood up. "Good-bye, Ash."

"But—" Ash stopped talking, for the man disappeared into the darkness like he was putting on a cloak. The candle still burned, and the body still lied next to him. He didn't ponder, suddenly sick. He gripped the bag, candle, and trophy, pushing himself up and staggering away. He clutched the fabric and tried to walk away without looking back. He tripped over several stones, and fell down the steps that led outside, landing hard on his backside.

He shivered, trying to get the fabric back around him as he crawled towards a vacant sleeping bag. He was just inside when he fell asleep.

****

Miriam woke late, for once not having annoying pests waking her up. She yawned and stretched, blinking rapidly. The fire was out; no wonder she was cold.

She went over and started to light the fire with things called matches. Yes, she knew how they worked. Dimly she wondered where the Ratwa was.

"Dilly? Dilly? Come here!"

Something moaned. "Be quiet."

Miriam's head snapped up. "Blondie?!" She was over to the bag in a second. "Where the Hell have ya been?!"

Ash looked blearily at her. "I don't remember," he murmured, closing his eyes again to sleep.

"Excuse me!"

"Please don't yell," he said from somewhere in the bag.

Miriam glared at him, then noticed something shining next to his hand. After scooping it up and the pouch next to it, her eyes went wide. A small trophy, pure gold, Miriam bet, with trims of silver and imprints of deer on them. The pouch jingled in her hand, and her eyes went even wider as she poured out the solid gold coins onto her hand.

"Where the Hell did ya get this?" Miriam gasped.

"Hmm?"

"Never mind," she whispered, picking up a piece of fabric, a robe. She bet it was silk, the deep green pattern and brown trim. As she rocked it back at forth in the light, it glittered like there was gold thread woven in it. Miriam looked down at the sleeping Ash. "Oh, I suggest ya sleep a long time, cuz ya're gonna have a lot of questions to answer when ya wake up. A lot."

****

Pikachu could feel it in her ears, her jagged tail, her paws, her entire body. He came back, he came back, she knew it.

_"You're setting yourself up for disappointment,_" Pyro warned, panting as he tried to keep up with her. Oh, there was no way he was out of shape, no way, no way, no way . . .

"_Oh, go watch Shamin!_" Pikachu yelled.

Pyro snorted. _"Excuse me, but she is running in front of us! Look what you started. If he's not there!_"

"_He's there!_" Pikachu yelled with a burst of speed, passing Shamin. Jeez, she could run _fast_.

The knowledge that Ash was there kept Pikachu running for over ten minutes. She didn't care that Shamin was behind her, but that Pikapi was in front of her. She dashed into the camp.

"_Pikapi!"_ she yelled, looking wildly around.

Miriam's head snapped up. She was fingering a piece of cloth. "Hey," she murmured. "Quiet. Over there," she pointed without looking over.

Pikachu looked in the direction Miriam pointed. There was a lump in the sleeping bag, and gentle snoring. "Pikapi!" she yelled, jumping onto the lump.

He blinked at her in surprise, and yawned. "Hey, Pikachu," he sighed, still able to sleep.

She hugged him tightly against his bare chest.

"Oh, I missed you too," he smiled blinking, petting her gently and pushing himself up.

Pikachu nuzzled him, half-scolding in her words.

"What?" he asked, running a hand through his hair, figuring he couldn't sleep with Pikachu glued to his chest. "What time is it?"

"Huh?" Miriam asked, then looked to the side to see Shamin and Pyro escape the forest. Shamin saw him immediately.

"SHAN!" she yelled, running over to give him a tight hug and squishing Pikachu. "I knew you'd be back! I knew it! You came back!"

Ash's eyes were wide in surprise, leaning back. "Shamin—"

"PIKACHU!" Pikachu yelled, shocking both of them to escape.

Shamin pushed herself shakily away. "S-s-sorry, Pikachu."

"Ka!" Pikachu yelled, hugging Ash again, as if saying Shamin had no right to hug Ash first because Pikachu knew him first and longer.

Suddenly Shamin's face turned hard when she looked at Ash's face. Her hand smacked him hard across the face. "You ***!"

"What'd I do?" he demanded, touching his cheek carefully.

She put her hands on her hips. "Taking off like that! We were worried sick!"

He flinched. "Umm . . . sorry?"

Her face remained hard, as did Pikachu's. "Don't you ever to that again!"

". . . okay."

"Good!" Then she hugged him tightly again. Pikachu luckily managed to get away. "I missed you so much!"

Ash patted her back unsure. "Okay. Could you like, umm . . .?"

Miriam stood up and walked over to the trio. Pyro was watching them with distaste. "Well, one of ya's is at least proper."

"What, Miriam?" Shamin asked.

She smoothed over the soft robe that she had folded over her arm. "Well, just so ya know while ya're sitting on his lap, Blondie is butt-naked." She grinned.

Shamin's eyes went wide just as Ash's did, and the blush was in both of their cheeks as they pushed each other away. Ash brought his sleeping bag up around his neck and looked at them embarrassed. "Could you, like get me something to wear?"

Shamin looked at him, while Miriam studied the situation. "Well, I think ya need to get punished."

"Pardon?" he squeaked.

Miriam walked over and picked up his pack, tossing it on the opposite side of camp. "Ya did take off without tellin' us, had us worried sick. Ya can sit there and suffer." Shamin looked at Miriam, speechless.

"Miriam!"

"Or," Miriam continued evilly. "Run really fast and get yar stuff." He paled.

"Miriam," he whimpered. "Shamin? Pikachu?" He gulped. "Pyro?"

Miriam carefully turned Shamin around and started to head back to the other side of the camp. "Miriam," Shamin whispered.

"Aww, come on guys!" Ash yelled, his head just sticking out of his bag. "Please. I'm sorry! Pikachu? Come on, buddy. "

Pyro gripped the mouse by her tail and dragged her away from her Trainer.

"Come on, guys! This isn't funny!"

_**POKÉDEX**_

Manie—the Lion Pokémon:

A large cat Pokémon, Manie's head, in males, is surrounded by a mane of fire. To a lesser extent, the females also have manes, but usually the fires are low and only extinguish to the full display when threatened. Its large eyes have the power to paralyze its prey or opponent, allowing it an easy win and dinner in some cases. Manies are very large and powerful, and travel in family groups. Along borders of heavy forests, lone Manies constantly fight against Gertigs, another cat Pokémon, for territory. [return]

Gertig—the Striped Pokémon:

Also a cat Pokémon, Gertig's entire body is covered in stripes, allowing it to hide and ambush its prey. Gertigs are extremely dangerous and have vile tempers, so approach with caution. Loners by nature, the psychic attacks given by experienced—or nursing mothers for the few short weeks after the cubs are born—Gertigs are not to be made light of. Young Gertigs usual live on the edges of the forest, and thus fight constantly with young Manies. It is a common question among natives who live in Gertig/Manie fighting territory to ask: In a battle, who would win—Manie or Gertig? [return]

Grizzle—the Bear Pokémon:

A large and potentially dangerous Pokémon, (although not nearly as dangerous as its larger, always dangerous cousin Ursaring,) Grizzle is found in dense forests and tends to forage for food. Although at times a very mellow creature, they become fierce when threatened or awaken during the winter. They tend to attack picnic-ers. One Grizzle has been seen by several park patrons that wears a tie and hat, talks, and loves to steal picnic baskets. Park Rangers claim these sightings are false, but this is a vast Park conspiracy. [return]

Hyaena—the Laughing Pokémon:

A dangerous Pokémon with a very annoying "laughter", they are common on savannas and travel in large packs. Some subspecies, a smidgen bigger than their grassland cousins, live in disintegrating forest systems. They are very brutal in attack and do not tolerate non-family members on their lands. The loyalty to their pack unit is something never to underestimate. [return]

Ratwa—the Test Pokémon:

Historians disagree on whether or not this Pokémon has actually existed. Only found in the Ratwa Competition and surrounding lands, this lithe deer was commonly used to test the Trainer's ability to change their viewpoints and understand the Pokémon of the world better. Yet whether or not the Pokémon is (or was, as the Ratwa lands have been the blunt of much over-hunting for many years prior to the story) actually real or simply created, the answer has been lost with the slow decay of the League. Ratwa is/was considered a very helpless lone Pokémon with very few attacks, and it usually has/had to rely on its speed to survive. This does not mean it's totally helpless, though. A truly great Pokémon Trainer is/was able to find and use these few attacks. [return]


	12. Chapter 11

Hey guys, it's me I just wanted to clear up something before I continue on with this story. 1) I did not steal this story I took over for Kim Hoppy, 2) If you have any negative comments please keep them to yourself. I'll update as soon a possible we just got done with a huge school function and I'm trying to rest up. My voice is practically gone, I sang for about fifty minuets last night practically nonstop. I'll also start working more in my Digimon story. Where was I? Oh yes please, please if you review please be firm and to the point I like constructive criticism…. I'd better shut up now I think. Any way that's just about it. I'll update real soon.

Your friend and fellow author: Lee Clark


	13. Chapter 12

**Chapter Ten:**GipSies, Tramps, and Thieves

"Ya know," Miriam smiled sarcastically looking over her shoulder as she ran, saxophone clutched in her hands.

"I _thought_ honesty was the best policy?"

Ash glared at her. "Oh, shut up!"

"What?" she asked innocently as the three of them ducked into an alley and over a wall.

"We were perfectly honest with them!"

"I think . . . we lost . . . 'em," Shamin gasped, peaking over the ledge.

"How much did ya get?" Miriam asked, leaning against the wall.

Shamin reached into her pockets and pulled out a wad of bills. "Well, I left the guitar there. Too heavy to run with." Her fingers counted the bills. "About three-twenty. Not bad."

"Not bad," Miriam agreed, snapping the money away from the girl and tucking them down her shirt. "That makes 'bout five-eighty even."

Ash had his arms crossed over his chest and glared at them, face red with unspoken anger.

"What the Hell was that all about!"

"We were honest with them," Miriam repeated with a smile. "Ya have to admit that."

"I don't have to admit nothing!" Ash yelled.

"_Shh_!" both the girls hissed, slapping their hands over his big mouth.

"You wanna get us caught?" Shamin demanded, after making sure no one was heading their way.

"Sure!" Ash said loudly. "You—" He raised his hands like he was going to strangle them, trying to sputter out the perfect word that could describe them both to the ultimate. "_Thieves_!"

"That's right," Miriam smiled. "But we were honest with them!" She wouldn't let go of that point.

"Oh, lay off it! How the Hell were you '_honest'_? You stole from them! Did the definition for 'honest' suddenly change!"

"Hey, we said they might get some sleight of hand! And they did!" Miriam laughed.

"We gave them back their wallets," Shamin smiled.

Ash still remained stubborn, anger bubbling higher at their attitudes. "You said we were just gonna rent some instruments and play in the streets for hand-me-outs!"

"Okay, so there I lied," Miriam admitted. Then she shook her head. "Wait, no. I omitted certain details. I didn't say it was gonna be a _willin'_ hand-me-out. I don't lie, see? " She stuck her tongue out and poked his nose.

He narrowed his eyes at her dangerously. "You lied to me."

"Well, it wouldn't have ended that way if that guy hadn't decided to go for his wallet," Shamin stated, brushing the snow off her pants. "I mean, if he hadn't done that and saw all his money was gone—I didn't take the credit cards, mind you—you wouldn't have . . . even . . . found . . out . . ." Her voice ended in a squeak, withering under Ash's angry stare.

"I wouldn't have even found out," Ash repeated lowly. "So you'd do it behind my back. You'd just use me."

"Oh, we did not," Miriam said airily, waving her hand as if to dismiss the notion.

His voice was clipped when he spoke. "Really?"

"Of course not." Shamin nodded her agreement.

He looked at them from under his bangs. "You asked me to come in town to play with you guys." His hands tightened around his flute. "Because you knew I'd draw a semi-decent crowd. Plenty pickings then. You used me."

Miriam shook her head. "Look, Blondie—"

"Don't touch me!" he yelled when she started to drape her arm around him, leaping back. Miriam blinked in shock at the action. "I thought you were my friends!"

"We are!" Shamin exclaimed, coming closer.

Ash shook his head wildly, stepping back as if to escape their presence. "No. Friends don't _use_ one another."

"We didn—" Miriam started.

"Like Hell!" Ash yelled. "You said you never walk into a big pickpocket without having a plan, Miriam! You said that all those fucking months ago back in the Tunnels! Oh, you had a plan and don't you dare deny it!" He glared at them. "Just stay away from me," he said lowly. "Stay the Hell away from me."

With that he turned and ran.

Shamin and Miriam stood dumbly watching him go.

"Miriam?" Shamin whispered, looking at the older woman.

Miriam waved her hand again. "Don't worry 'bout it. He'll calm down."

"I don't think so, Miriam! He's really upset!" Shamin panicked.

"He'll calm down," Miriam repeated, slipping out of the saxophone strap. "We'll get him somethin' to eat."

"Are you sure?" Shamin asked, matching pace as they started out.

"Positive."

Shamin nodded, and they were both quiet for a moment.

"We did use him, though," Shamin admitted quietly.

Miriam rolled her eyes. "If we had told him why, he wouldn't have gone through with it."

She looked slightly unconvinced. "I know, but still . . ."

There was response, and the two women walked with a gnawing sense of guilt.

****

Ash wiped the freezing tears savagely from his eyes and he ran into the tree line towards camp, half in a small cave Pyro had found. They lied to him! They were supposed to be friends and they _lied_ to him—They _used_ him!

"Pikachu!" he yelled once he got to the camp, tossing in his sleeping bag and putting his flute rapidly away in his bag. "Pikachu!"

The mouse ran out from the bare thicket. "Pikapi?"

He slung his pack on, wiping his eyes one last time. The glove fibers scratched his cheeks, but he didn't care. "Come on. We're out of here!"

"_Pi_?" she questioned incredulously. "Chu pika Chupi pi Chuka?"

"We're leaving!" Ash yelled at her. Then he berated himself when Pikachu cringed at his harsh tone. "I'm sorry, Pikachu," he whispered, kneeling down, uncaring as the snow chilled and dampened his knees. Pikachu did not come rushing up into his arms, and Ash bit his lip to keep from crying. He couldn't lose all his friends in one day, could he? "I'm sorry."

Pikachu looked at him, slightly afraid. Something was wrong. He _never_ yelled at her like that. Something had gone wrong in town. Where were the girls? "Chu?"

"I'm sorry I yelled at you, Pikachu. Please forgive me." Ash was praying to God that he didn't even know existed that she would. He couldn't lose her . . .

Slowly, Pikachu walked over to him, hearing a note of desperation that rarely was home in Ash's voice. He needed her. A flood of tears literally escaped his eyes and he hugged her tightly, so tight she couldn't breathe, but Pikachu made no complaint.

"If I had lost you as a friend," Ash sobbed quietly into her fur.

Even Pikachu's keen ears couldn't understand all of his murmurs, but she nuzzled him comfortingly nonetheless.

"Pikapi . . ."

Ash took a deep, slow breath and wiped his eyes again, looking down at her. "Come on. Time to leave."

She tilted her ears. "Chu?"

"Just . . . because," he said softly, looking away from her and biting his lip. "We have to go." He stood up slowly allowing his feet to get a holding in the snow.

"Chu pika Chupi pi Chuka?"

"They're not coming with us anymore," Ash said curtly.

"Ka?" Pikachu leaped from his arms, not understanding.

"Come on, Pikachu." He started to walk slowly away, glancing worriedly over his shoulder to see if she'd follow.

She didn't move from her spot, and Ash felt like his heart was being ripped out.

"Chupi pi Chuka pikachu pi?"

"You . . . you can stay with them, if you want," Ash said, pausing in his stride and forcing each bitter word from his mouth. He couldn't force her. If she was his friend . . .

Pikachu sat up in surprise. What was he saying? _Why_ was he saying it? "Pi?"

"I can't travel with them anymore, Pikachu," he said softly, shoulders trembling. "I can't. They'd take care of you, I know they will." He turned to look at her, eyes shining with tears he refused to let fall again. "It's your choice, Pikachu. I won't . . . judge you on either choice you make." _Please come with me. I don't want to be alone, not now. Please, Pikachu. Please_.

She looked at her Trainer in shock. Was he abandoning her? No, abandoning is when the Trainer just takes off, she thought, remembering Charmander's Trainer. No, he was giving her a choice. Her eyes looked at him. She was the one to make the choice, and she saw her choices as plain as day the longer she looked at him—To remain his loyal friend and stay by his side . . . or to betray and abandon _him_.

She ran up to him, jumping into his arms. Again he hugged her tightly.

"Thank you," he whispered hoarsely. "Thank you."

As they walked, Pikachu still being hugged tightly and nuzzled by Ash, she saw the familiar set of red eyes gleam down at them from the trees. Stealthily he crawled out from the finger-like branches and looked down at her. She waved slightly to say her good-bye.

Pyro looked at her coolly and did not return the gesture in the least.

Pikachu watched him slowly get smaller and smaller. Pyro remained rigid on the branch like a statue, watching them go. Finally she could see no more of the off-white fur through the winter branches. Pikachu looked up at Ash and licked his damp cheek, tasting the salty wetness. She felt his lips quirk into a smile.

"Pikachu . . ."

****

Pyro sat stiffly on his branch, watching the two leave. He was half tempted to follow them, but he couldn't run off like that. Miriam would worry.

He tilted his head. What the hell had happened to make Blondie take off like that? Well, it certainly wasn't something Miriam did. Blondie was just being what he was good at—Stupid.

Even still, part of Pyro admitted the boy was seriously upset about something. And, even though he hated the kid, Pyro worried about him.

Pyro snorted. Not that he'd admit it to anyone else, even Miriam. You could rip out each of his tails one-by-one and he wouldn't say it. You should chop off his paws, his ears, tear out all his teeth, break his back and every other bone in his body, beat him with a club . . .

Yet, to himself, Pyro worried.

"_Good luck, you two. Good luck._"

He sat on the branch and looked into the mesh of branches as if willing himself to see through their white-iced brown to the travelers. His tails quivered.

****

Ash hit the flint and steel together, severely out of practice in lighting a fire. "Light, *** you," he ordered under his breath, shivering as snow started to fall. His hands alone were already almost frozen even with the gloves after pushing the snow out from under his bag. He hadn't noticed how much he had grown used to Pyro lighting the fire. Man, once upon a time he would have had sparks after the first pass.

Pikachu touched his trembling hand. "Pikapi chu pikachu pika," she said gently.

"Just let me get the fire started," Ash argued quietly. "We need a fire."

She looked at him in a manner that clearly said, "I'll take care of it." "Chu pikachu," Pikachu ordered, pushing him towards his sleeping bag. Ash looked at her hard, but gave in without much complaint because he had no will at the moment. He just wanted lay down and sleep.

"Kapika Pikapi," Pikachu whispered as he curled up into his bag.

Ash smiled weakly. "God night, Pikachu," he replied, closing his eyes.

Pikachu sat for a moment just watching him, then went over to his bag, digging in it until she found the Pokéball she was looking for. Carefully she carried it out and pushed the button to allow the occupant to be release. Cyndaquil yawned.

"_I was sleeping_," he said off-handedly as he stretched, not really meaning it. It had been a long time since he was out of his Pokéball.

"_Sorry_," Pikachu smiled. "_Could you please light a fire? It's a little cold_." She shivered a little as snow piled on both of them.

Cynadquil smiled at her, lighting the meager pile of sticks easily.

"_That won't keep you warm all night_," he said, then melted some snow away so he could lie on the hard ground.

Pikachu nodded, sitting next to him.

"_I know. I'll get some more wood later_."

"_You should get tents_."

"_Yes_."

They both were quiet for awhile.

"_So, how goes the training?_" Cyndaquil asked conversationally.

Pikachu smiled, rolling her eyes.

"_We're training_?"

The fire Pokémon chuckled. "_Not battling much, huh_?"

"_Not here_," Pikachu sighed. "_They have a shoot-Pokémon-on-sight law or something here_."

"_Really_?"

She nodded. "_It's strange. All the Pokémon I've seen are caged and leashed, and all the humans avoid even their owners. No Pokémon Centers, no Nurse Joys, Pokémon professors, TV shows, nothing. They don't even sell Pokémon supplies_."

Cyndaquil thought about this. "_I'll stay in my Pokéball then, thank you very much_." He smiled, looking around at the makeshift camp. "_Last-minute_?"

Again Pikachu nodded, making circled in the snow. "_Something's wrong with Pikapi. He's upset about something_."

"_What_?"

She shrugged. "_Don't know. He didn't even say good-bye to Chupi or Chuka_."

"_The girls you been traveling with_?" Cyndaquil dimly recalled a white-haired woman in the background who wouldn't even look at him, but he definitely remembered the green-haired excitable one. She stepped on his tail, for one thing, and kept saying—of course, she was right—that he was cute.

"_Yes, them. He doesn't want to talk, and I'm afraid to push the issue too much._"

Cyndaquil nodded in slight understanding, staring at the already dwindling fire. _"Your fire._"

Pikachu nodded. "_I'll get some more._" And then she ran into the forest.

The fire Pokémon shook his head. She tried, really she did, but Pikachu was being terribly silly. How much wood could she get and how often? She was just a little mouse, and they'd need a big _dry_ log to keep the fire up all night. He decided he wouldn't tell her though, because that would leave her with nothing to do but worry and wonder. It might even make her think her efforts were pointless.

Cyndaquil stood up and yawned, carefully walking over the few feet of snow to Ash and curling up beside him into a tight ball. He'd be dreadfully tired in the morning, but Cyndaquil didn't care at the present while he allowed his back to burst into small flames. It'd be even worse if his Trainer died or got terribly sick from the cold. Cyndaquil rested his head, feeling the snow around him melt.

He noted with satisfaction that his Trainer didn't shiver as much.

****

Shamin fixed her new hat again, flipping back the fluff ball that was at the end. The snow crunched under her new boots, and for once her hands were warm in their new gloves. Oh, god, the stuff was _new_! The only thing not brand-new was the coat that she had stolen from Ash. Considering everything she had put it through, it was in remarkable condition. Now that was quality.

"Do you think Shan'll like the hat we bought?" she asked Miriam for probably the fifteenth time. If it wasn't the hat, it was the boots. If it wasn't the boots, it was the coat.

The woman rolled her eyes. "It doesn't matter if he likes it or not. He's wearin' it." She shivered, wrapping her arms around her body. "I bloody hate winter! Oh, we could have just settled down for this frinkin' season, but _no-o-o-o_! Have to keep trainin'! What we're gonna do is freeze!" Miriam paused, looking at her boots as she walked. "Although, I will admit, I do look smashin' in a winter ensemble!"

"You know, I don't think he'd have made such a big deal if we told him why we took the money," Shamin said.

"Yes he would have," Miriam corrected. "He would have insisted that we used his money that he's got saved up. I don't know how much it is, even with that win, but no. I will not beg off him. Never."

Shamin looked a Miriam slightly in shock. She must really like Shan. Miriam was 100% guilty of playing men for saps and having them lavish her with gifts, expensive or not. If she didn't want to leech off him, well there was some level of respect and caring that no man had ever gotten before.

"Oh. Do you think Pikachu'll like her hat?"

"Ya mean socks," Miriam smiled. Those stupid ears Rodent had were hard to shop for. "They'll keep her bloody ears from fallin' off, and she'll wear 'em too."

"Even if they have _Pika_-dots." Shamin grinned at the pun.

"Hey, I though they were cute," Miriam said defensively, but with a smile. "And my Pyro's gonna look even cuter with his sweet little jacket, don'tcha think?"

"He'll burn it off."

"No-o. That little thing is expensive, and if he does, I'm gonna give him a crew cut. Then let him brave this Winter Wonderland." She sneered at the words.

"You really hate winter?" Shamin asked incredulously, shifting the bags to kneel down and grab some snow. "I love it. The snow makes everything look so pretty."

"Even frozen corpses," Miriam snarled. "Look, in winter ya get stuff ya can only get in this season. Hypothermia, the flu, colds because it's so cold, frostbite, runny noses, chapped lips, a wonderful tinge of blue."

"You don't get colds because it's cold. They're viruses," Shamin pointed out, molding the snow into a decent-shaped ball.

Miriam rolled her eyes. "I don't care! All I want is a roaring fire, cup of cocoa—which I know I'm not goin' to get—and a warm bed! And ya know somethin'? Bein' in a warm house would certainly be a plus."

Shamin nodded in agreement, tossing away her snowball. "Maybe we can talk Shan into maybe renting rooms during the night from now on."

Miriam snorted. "That wouldn't work, cause then we have to stay close to town." She shivered. "I hope Pyro has a fire goin'."

"He will," Shamin smiled. Miriam had that fox trained for some things.

They chatted easily for a few minutes until they came to their camp. "Hey, Blondie!" Miriam called, looking around the area for the figure. He probably fell asleep because they were so late, but that could be easily remedied.

As per expected, Pyro did have the fire going, and Miriam hugged it while Shamin did something only Shamin did, Miriam supposed.

"Miriam?"

"What?"

The next part was hesitant. "Where's Shan?"

Miriam lifted her head. "What?"

"He's not in there, or his stuff," she said slowly. "He's gone."

Her mind froze for a second. Oh, he couldn't be gone. No, he was probably just . . . hiding or something. Yeah, that was it. Hiding. Oh, get real, Miriam. "Really?"

"Miriam!" Shamin yelled. "He's gone! He left!"

"Calm down!"

"He really left, Miriam! He wasn't just saying that!"

"He never said he was goin' to leave," Miriam said stupidly.

"Miriam!"

"Stop yellin' my name!"

"We have to find him!"

"We will."

Shamin went off on a rant. "He'll freeze and end up as an ice cube or something! Or get hypothermia and end up in the hospital with his toes and fingers and nose and ears falling off!"

"Calm down! It wouldn't—"

"No, it'll be worse! That Bombing Snowman'll get him or something'll eat him!"

"_Shamin_!"

****

Ash shivered and tried to curl into a tighter ball for warmth. His teeth chatted.

"Cynn?"

"Hmm?" Ash shivered, flipping his eyes open. He was surprised to see Cyndaquil shivering next to him.

"Cyndaquil!" he yelled, scooping the fire Pokémon up and holding it close, a blanket of snow flying off him because of his action. It was freezing cold. "Damn it, what are you doing?!"

Cyndaquil looked at Ash with reproachful eyes. Pikachu suddenly appeared next to him, also scolding Ash for his outburst.

"I'm sorry," Ash shivered. "I know why. But damn it, you're gonna kill yourself exerting yourself like that. Don't do that, all right?"

Both of the Pokémon merely smiled at him.

"Come on, let's get up. I'll get you something to warm you up. You just stay warm." Ash smiled as the two instantly complied, curling into his sleeping bag.

He trudged through the snow, deeper that what it had been last night. There was no fire, and Ash knew Cyndaquil had probably saved his life in some small—or big—way. He dug through the snow to find his bag, then withdrew some easy, no-cook rations.

His fingers were freezing even through the gloves. He needed new ones, and maybe a hat. He'd buy some soon. And something for Pikachu too.

Carefully Ash sat next to them, looking at his map. He peeled off a glove and flexed the frozen joints, then looked at the map, finger trailing his course. According to his calculations, the Pooka League was near—at least nearer than it was yesterday. Ash shook his head. He didn't want to think about yesterday.

"Okay, guys," he sighed, chewing on a piece of jerky. Pikachu and Cyndaquil looked at him. "If we continue, um, northish"—he turned the map sideways, then upside-down—"we'll get to Pooka in, ahh, eventually." He smiled at them, then sneezed. "Don't worry."

Both Cyndaquil and Pikachu looked at each other.

"_We're in trouble, yes?"_ Cyndaquil whispered, watching Ash wipe his nose on his sleeve.

She didn't deny it. "_Yes."_

****

Ash wiped his raw nose on his sleeve again. He needed some Kleenex. Major. He sneezed.

"Pikapi?"

"I'm all right," he smiled, petting her head.

Pikachu made a face. He sounded like hell. "Chu pika."

"I'm fine," he sighed, then coughed as he looked at his map. "We're right here."

She shook her head and pointed to another area of the map. "Pi."

"Are you sure?" he asked her skeptically. She nodded. "O-o-okay. We're here, then. That puts up . . . two miles further than what we were." He frowned and looked at her. "Are you _sure_?" he whined.

"Pika." She looked at him. "Chupi pikachu pi—"

"I don't need Shamin's help!" he yelled hotly. Pikachu cringed. "I don't need help from _them_, all right! So lay off it!" He crossed his arms and trudged through the snow in a sulk, sniffing and tears biting his eyes. "It's not like they care about me, anyway," he muttered.

"Chu!" Pikachu countered. "Chuka pi Chupi pikachu pika chu pi!"

He sniffed and didn't respond.

"Pikapi!" she scolded.

"Come on. Pooka's not waiting around forever."

Pikachu frowned at him, but made no comment. Yet, as far as she was concerned, Pooka _could_ wait around forever.

****

"Damn it! I wish it hadn't snowed!" Miriam growled, clutching her coat closer as the wind picked up.

"Is Pyro sure this is the right way?" Shamin asked, looking at the map.

"Of course he is."

"But we're headed the wrong way!"

"This is Blondie we're tailin'," Miriam reminded gently.

Shamin nodded her agreement. "Do you think he's all right?"

"How much trouble can he get into in the middle of nowhere?" Miriam sighed. "Wait, don't answer that. Just don't."

"But he doesn't even have a decent coat or anything," Shamin pointed out. "We should have told him."

"Would ya give it up!" Miriam exclaimed. "Dammit, I'm cold, freezin', probably sick, lost, and bein' hassled! Just shut up, all right!"

Shamin closed her mouth, looking at her feet as she walked. Her gaze kept shifting back to Miriam, and she swallowed. "Are you sure he's all right?" she asked in a rush.

Miriam clutched her head in exasperation. Oh, if Blondie wasn't already dead, she was going to kill him for making her put up with this crap.

****

"I wish I had some skis," Ash said through his stuffed up nose. "I wish I knew _how_ to ski. Just think how fast we'd be traveling, huh, Pika-choo! Sorry."

Pikachu wiped her face, glaring at his apologetic face. "Kapi," she muttered.

"I said sniff sorry," he apologized again. He straightened out the map. "Where are we now?"

She blinked at the map, trying to calculate. There were seriously lucky that she had sat on Shamin's shoulder, and hence picked up a bit of ability in reading a map because Shamin insisted on speaking to herself. Pikachu knew that if she didn't know the tiny bit of map reading she did, they would probably have no chance of surviving the winter. Yet Pikachu was very aware that her very minimum map reading ability couldn't save them forever. Even now she was having trouble figuring out where they were.

She bit her lip, scanning the map. It would be easier if she understood what was written. The tiny dots barely helped now. "Pi," she pointed, guessing greater with each passing try.

Ash smiled. "We're getting closer, then." He didn't even doubt her judgment.

Pikachu forced a smile and gripped his shoulder as he trudged through the deep—past his knees—snow as they drifted past the bridge of trees to a meadow plain. She bet his feet were freezing. She knew the rest of him was. His clutched his arms, and his nose, ears, and cheeks were almost as red as her cheeks. His hands were tucked into the sleeves of his coat, and his collar was up.

Pikachu wondered where they were going to camp. Ash was going to die if he kept up like this. If only humans could go in Pokéballs.

"You think we'll be there in a hour?" Ash asked hopefully, showing her the map again. Pikachu shrugged. "Well, yeah, I guess you can't judge. The snow and cod will slow me up." He grinned, a bit off-balanced, and walked on, folding the map over. "Damn, are you cold too?"

Pikachu gave him the Look.

"Stupid question, huh?" he smiled weakly. "I wish forests had snow-plows, don't you? Or cabins? How come Hansel and Gretel, who found a gingerbread cabin in the middle of nowhere; or that Goldilocks, who got a cabin, warm porridge, and a bed in the middle of nowhere; and Snow White, who got a cabin with seven men in there—I don't want to even go into areas that Miriam would certainly hint at—in the middle of nowhere; and Red Riding Hood, whose Grandma lived in the middle of nowhere . . . How come they get to _find cabins in the middle of nowhere_? Is that really fair? I mean, those cabins got them practically killed, but we could use one, ya know?" He wiped his nose again. "Why do they get all the luck?"

"Pikapi, chu pikachu pika," she said gently.

"I _know_ they're fairy tales," he snapped, but smiling at her tease. "But they really lie. I mean, they're telling kids that if they get lost in the forest, there _will_ be a cabin to crash for the night. Damn it, I believed that, and do I see a cabin when I'm in some forest? _No-o-o_." He looked at Pikachu's shocked expression. "I didn't really believe there'd be cabin out here, Pikachu."

She sagged with relief. "Chu."

"Ha ha." He rubbed his arms. "You know, if you're cold, you can go in my coat."

She shook her head. If he was going to freeze, she was going to freeze with him. "Chu, Pikapi. Pikachu pi chu."

He nuzzled his head against her and sighed, shaking his head. "Okay." They walked slowly, and Ash looked at the map, and then the tree line that they left a while ago. He licked his chapped lips in thought, tracing the map and glancing at the trees. "If I read this right, we're—"

_Crack_!

He jerked to a stop and looked down at his feet. "Umm . . .?" He croaked, looking back at the map. "We're, umm, on a river, Pikachu."

Pikachu's eyes were wide. How cold would that water be?

Ash took a deep breath. "Okay, Pikachu, don't worry. I'm sure we're okay. I mean, we made it this far, and look at how much snow's on the ice. It's frozen. _Right_?" Pikachu didn't budge. Ash slowly moved forward. "I mean, it's been cold a long time, so the river probably froze over, ya know? It has been cold a while, right? And the snow on the ice should like make the river colder, right?" He walked slower, like he was on a tightrope. "I mean, snow shouldn't act like a warm insulating blanket, even though it probably is!" His voice was getting higher with each word, because he knew very well that things were going downhill.

He forced himself to take a deep breath, trying not to worry that he was adding weight to the ice.

"Calm down, calm down, calm down," he ordered himself. "Just . . . walk."

"Pikapi," Pikachu moaned, pressing herself against him. Swimming wasn't her strong point.

"Don't worry, Pikachu. I won't let you get hurt," Ash vowed, taking her off his shoulder to clutch her in his arms. He should have been paying attention! If Pikachu drowned, it'd be all his fault! It was his fault! What kind of Trainer was he if he put his Pokémon and himself in this kind of danger! Well, if they went down, Pikachu wasn't going with him.

Ever so carefully, he walked. Ash stopped looking at his feet, but at the nearing line of trees. He had to be, what, halfway there? Three-fourths? He struggled to ignore the games his mind played, the endless stream of cracks he heard.

Crap, he hoped it was his mind playing games with him.

It was slow makings, but Ash felt himself growing surer, because he forced himself. He wasn't going to fall. Nope, nope, nope. Yet his muscles remained tense. Pikachu was barely breathing, and Ash realized it was the same with him.

It happened so fast that Ash didn't even realize it. But, suddenly, he was going down with the sickening _crack_! He didn't even think, but tossed Pikachu as he fell with a yell into the freezing depths.

Pikachu rolled, sinking to the bottom of the snow. Wildly she jumped up and tried to run back to the hole, trying to see over the snow. Finally she reached it—almost fell in—and peered into the black water. The ice wasn't even a foot thick here!

"Pikapi!" she yelled, frantic. "PIKAPI!" Bubbles popped against her nose, the ice chucks floated. One was so big that Pikachu was afraid it'd hide this exit from Ash. What could she do? She tried to push it down and under the other ice, and she saw something float up, Ash's bag. Pikachu's mind sparked hope.

Ash's bag was floating just out of reach, but Pikachu used her tail to bring it closer. Without a thought, she dug in the bag and searched for a Pokéball, any Pokéball that housed a water or ice Pokémon! (Oh, where was a Lapras when you needed one!) Didn't Ash have some kind of water Pokémon? He had to! He had to! He did! Totodile!

Finally she found him and released the crocodile.

"Toto!" the blue Pokémon smiled, doing a small jig.

Pikachu was too stressed for pleasantries. "_Pikapi fell through the ice! You have to find him!_"

Panic crossed Totodile's face, and he dived without a second word or explanation, forgetting to make a show of it.

Pikachu waited as the seconds ticked by, worried. Ash would almost be out of air! He could get what was it that Miriam said? Hypothermia? Pneumonia? Something really bad!

"_Hurry, Totodile_!" she yelled, crying. Why oh why couldn't she be a water Pokémon? What good was an electric rat! She was useless! Useless! She collapsed, crying as the minutes ticked up.

Suddenly the water splashed up. Totodile, Ash's jacket firmly in his jaws, slipped onto the ice, trying to pull the unconscious Trainer out of the water. Ice was already forming on them. Pikachu grabbed Ash as well and tried to help, but he was too heavy.

"_Keep holding on!"_ She ran back to the bag and dug again, tapping a ball. The Pokémon couldn't be too heavy, or they'd all go through the ice.

"Saur!" Bulbsaur called.

"_Help us, Bulbasaur!" _Pikachu pleaded, gripping Ash's jacket and trying to help Totodile.

Like Totodile, Bulbasaur wasted no time in sending out his vine whips and picking Ash out of the water. But then he looked at the others. Where should he put him? Not on the snow!

Pikachu looked panicked. "_Head for those trees!"_ she yelled.

They all nodded and tried to run through the snow, but they were all very short Pokémon. Totodile was hindered by Ash's bag that he had clenched in his teeth. Pikachu looked at Ash, who hung limply from Bulbasaur's vines. He looked blue! The only positive side was that he was breathing, thanks to Bulbasaur's squeezing vines. They acted like that Heimlich maneuver.

The ice cracked under them, but they ran anyway, cutting the trails through the snow. Finally they reached a tree, and then another, and another.

"_Get a fire Pokémon out!_" Bulbasaur ordered, trying to push the snow away so he could set Ash down. Already long minutes had passed, and Bulbasaur could feel the clothes turning to ice.

Pikachu nodded and quickly released the still tired Cyndaquil. "_Please, try and light a fire!"_ she pleaded. "_Pikapi fell through the ice!"_

Cyndaquil made no objection, erupting his back into the tiny flames, what he could only manage now, and snuggling close to Ash.

"_Totodile, get the bag!_" Bulbasaur ordered. "_The sleeping bag!"_

Totodile cringed at the tone, but got the bag out. "_It's wet!"_

"_Get it next to Cyndaquil and try to ring it out!"_ Pikachu said, pulling off Pikachu's shoe.

"_What are you doing!"_ Cyndaquil yelled, jumping up. "_He'll freeze!"_

_"He can't stay in wet clothes! He'll get sicker than what he will without them!"_

"_She's right!"_ Bulbasaur agreed, trying to peeling off the coat. "_Get that sleeping bag over here!"_

Totodile dragged it over. _"It's still a little wet, but only on the outside,"_ he panted. "_It was rolled well._"

Bulbasaur grunted his annoyance and carried Ash's almost naked body onto the bag, and Pikachu quickly zipped it up to his neck. He shivered, the slow, irregular breaths in clouds. "_He's still cold."_

"_We're going to have to all huddle with him, all of us!"_ Cyndaquil stated, the usually laid-back, calm Pokémon taking charge of matters as he moved next to his Trainer's head.

"_Get all Pokémon with fur and get in the sleeping bag with him. Transfer of body heat. And get his head in the bag. Humans lose 10% of their body heat that way! Come on, come on, get moving!"_

They all nodded, shifting through the Pokéballs and looking at Ash with worry.

****

Pyro sniffed the air and perked his ears. Shit, they still had a good few miles on them, and dark would be falling soon. He growled in annoyance. Something was going wrong, he knew it. Blondie or Rodent or the both of them were in trouble, even more so than when they had probably rolled down that hill ten minutes back.

He jumped down from his branch, instantly vanishing in the snow. He wished he was bigger, damn, he really did. Carefully Pyro stood up on his toes to look over the snow, then nimbly jumped up. He could walk on the snow, provided he walked lightly. Well, lightly was his middle name.

He sniffed the snow again. Stupid Blondie. He was going to get them all killed with this stupid attitude of his. Miriam and Shamin were only looking out for everyone's well being. Idiot. You're supposed to sit down and talk out your problems, _not_ run off. Running away doesn't solve problems.

_Ahh, but therein is the problem_, Pyro mused. Here he was traveling _with_ runaways. It's the only thing they know how to do, run away from their problems. Even Miriam was guilty of that. Pyro sighed. Sometimes he thought he was the only one with any sense at all. Even Rodent had mental problems with her loyalty and crap.

_They're all suicidal_, he sighed, leaping over a log. _Out here in the dead of Winter. They don't know anything about real Winter. This is mild._

His fur trembled. Oh yes, Pyro had seen a lot of Winters, many a lot more harsher than this, the kind where you burrow yourself in a log and starve for three weeks and pray to Mew that you'll survive to see the Spring while your ribs slowly start to appear, your ears and paws stop having any feeling, you can barely move . . . The cold now was nothing compared to what might come, and Pyro knew it. Oh, he knew it all right.

The snow started to fall . . .

****

Pikachu looked up at the dark sky, breathing the cool fresh air. The snow still falling. A blanket of snow now rested on the mound that was them, and it was getting higher. Well, at least it was semi-cozy with everyone in the sleeping bag. Warm, yes, but a _wee_ bit cramp.

"_Could you please move your bulb off my leg!" _Cyndaquil snapped.

Bulbasaur glared down, but the darkness hid his expression. "_And where should I go, huh?"_

"_Hey, get off my leaf, you bit lug!"_ Chitorika yelped.

"_Why you calling a big lug, you perfume factory!"_

_"I told you not to step on me!"_

_"Watch the flames!"_

_"You watch where you're whipping that leaf!"_

_"Come on guys. Be nice."_

_"SHUT UP!"_

Totodile cringed and curled into a tinier ball near his end of the sleeping bag. "_Sorry_."

Pikachu crawled back in, closing the bag to keep the cold out. She touched Ash's cheek. He still felt cold to her. If only they could fit more Pokémon in the bag, but even a tiny Pokémon would make the conditions even worse. She bit her lip in worry, half listening to the others continue their pointless arguing. Part of her was glad she decided to stay near the opening. Her tail and ears would have only caused an even bigger argument. Still, she sighed, wishing they would just shut up.

She wouldn't tell them to, because then they'd turn on her. Or they'd listen to her. The latter would be worse; the silence, everyone trying to breathe quietly to hear Pikapi's weak breathing and coughs . . . She shuddered at the image her imagination played.

"_I told you—Hey, something's on my back_!" Bulbasaur yelped.

"_What?"_ Totodile asked.

"_I said something's on my back,_" Bulbasaur said in his not-so-patient voice.

"_Are you sure_?" Pikachu asked.

"_I should know_!"

"_Go see what it is_," Cyndaquil sighed. "_It's probably nothing_."

"_Or an attacker_!" Chitorika yelled.

_"Watch the leaf! It's not an attacker!_" Cyndaquil snapped.

Pikachu shook her head and slipped under the cover and out into the snow. She shivered and looked around, seeing nothing. Chitorika peeked out as well, ready for battle. "_Anything_?"

"_I don't see anything_," Pikachu said carefully, still looking around and leaping onto the mound.

Chitorika frowned, disappointed, but started to circle the perimeter just to make sure. Suddenly a pile of snow hit her on the head. "_What's the big idea_!"

Pikachu peeked down. "_What_?"

"_Dropping that snow on me!"_

"_I didn't drop any snow on you,_" Pikachu said, looking up into the tree. "_Some probably fell from the branch overhead."_

The leaf Pokémon looked up, and nodded. "_Right. Sorry._"

"_Forget about it,_" Pikachu sighed, looking back up and scanning the area around them. There weren't any footprints around the mound, but there was some on the mound. Something had been up here. Something small. But what in the world could get on and off the mound without leaving any other trace?

"Seeee_!"_

"_Ahh!"_

Pikachu jerked her head up to see Chitorika rolling in the snow with a black blob. "_Chitorika!"_ she yelled, rushing down and over to help her friend.

Chitorika righted herself with a huff and sent a set of razor-leaves at the creature. It nimbly jumped aside with a laugh and tackled Chitorika again.

"_Get away from her!_" Pikachu ordered, diving into the heap as well.

"_What's going on!_" Bulbasaur yelled, escaping the bag with Cyndaquil and Totodile.

"_Get it off me!_" Chitorika yelled, swinging her leaf—smacking Pikachu more that the creature—as the black blob circled them.

"_Ow! Owowowowow_!" Pikachu yelped.

"_You leave them alone!_" Totodile ordered hotly.

Bulbasaur went a step further, catching the creature with his vine whips. "_What are you doing?"_

The almost totally fur creature giggled. "_I caught! I caught! I caught! Yeah!"_

"_Yea, you're caught_!" Chitorika sneered as Bulbasaur brought the creature back down.

"_Play agin?"_

The Pokémon looked at each other. "_Pardon_?" Cyndaquil asked.

The creature wiggled out of Bulbasaur's vines and looked at them with green eyes. "_Play agin?"_

"_You're . . . playing?"_ Totodile asked. "_By yourself?_" Everyone sort of looked at him, as he danced by himself.

The creature laughed, flicking its long arched tail around. "_No, silly. With 'em!"_ The creature pointed up into the trees, and suddenly the Pokémon could see more green eyes staring down at them from the branches, almost a hundred pair. They huddled together, prepared to be attacked.

"_We can't play,"_ Pikachu stated. "_Our Trainer is sick_."

The Pokémon tilted its head. "_Trainer? What that?"_

Pikachu looked at the others, trying to find the right words to explain what a Trainer was. "_A friend. He fell through the ice._"

A chattering suddenly went through the trees, and the creature on the ground froze. _"Into water?"_ They nodded, and the creature shivered, running its hands over its head. A glitter of gold flashed. "_Cold. Is all right?_"

Pikachu shook her head. "_No, he's not._"

"_Do you know any place warm where we could spend the night?_" Cyndaquil asked. "_Or anyone who could help?_"

The creature was quiet, thinking. A murmur went up through the trees. "_The Keepers, the Keepers, the Keepers_."

"_Who are 'the Keepers'?"_ Bulbasaur asked.

"_They watch forest_," the creature said slowly. It seemed almost afraid now.

"_Would they help?_" Pikachu asked, barely daring to hope.

"_Why . . . Trainer here?_"

"_He wants to compete in the Pooka League._"

"_Dangerous_?"

"_Oh, no. Pikapi isn't dangerous."_

"_Stupid, yes_," Cyndaquil put in.

"_Stubborn_," Chitorika added.

"_Lazy_," Bulbasaur sighed.

"_Dedicated,"_ Totodile stated.

Pikachu glared at the others. "_Pikapi is nice. He won't hurt anyone. Trust me._"

For a few moments, the furry creature didn't move. _"May see?"_

They looked at each other. "_I don't see why not,_" Totodile said slowly, then waited for onslaught of objections. He was surprised when none came up.

Cyndaquil nodded. "_Yes. It might help._"

Pikachu waved towards the creature, then went over to the mound, drawing back the cover to show Ash's face and bare shoulders. The snow piled on the sides.

The creature slowly edged closer, nose bobbing and looking at the other larger Pokémon carefully. They let it pass, and it stopped next to Ash's cheek. "_Not breathe_?"

Pikachu looked closer at Ash, trying to see the tiny cloud that should be forming. She gulped.

"_He . . . is. Please help,_" she pleaded, covering Ash back up.

The creature backed up, trembling. "_I come back. No promise though," _it whispered, blinking its enormous eyes. "_Stay._" And suddenly it vanished, leaving only a trail of its tiny footprints in the snow. A chitter went through the trees, of awe and fear.

****

Miriam and Shamin huddled in their sleeping bags, Miriam holding Pyro. They weren't in a cave, and both were shivering.

"Are ya seein' now why I hate Winter?" Miriam sighed.

Shamin made no response, studying at the map.

"What's so interestin'?"

"Pooka."

Miriam yawned. "Pardon?"

She raised her head to look at the woman. "I've been reading this map and, from what I can, there is no one place to go."

"Huh?"

Shamin sighed, tracing a circle on the map. "Unless the League was seriously spelled out on which way to go once you got into the forest, I'm not quite sure what to do once we cross the river and get into the Pooka forest."

Oh." Miriam rocked back and forth a bit. "Isn't Pooka a dog or somethin'?"

"Don't know. I wonder what the League deals with? I didn't even get to see Ratwa, and Shan won't tell me anything." She shook her head. "Anyway, I think a Pooka is a myth."

Miriam scoffed a laugh. "What makes ya say that, considerin' we're tryin' to find the place?"

"Not the place, but the creature in general." She tilted the map and squinted at the drawing. "See, like Dilly was a Ratwa for the Ratwa League. These pictures have Pookas for the Pooka League. I think they were supposed to be tricksters."

"And how do ya know this?"

"They're putting a whoopee cushion under someone in this drawing."

Miriam glared at her.

"Really!"

"Just shut up."

Shamin complied for about seven seconds. "Do you think Shan's all right? I mean, the map isn't telling us exactly how to get there, and you know how easily he gets lost. You think he's all right?"

Miriam pretended she hadn't heard and didn't answer, petting Pyro. Even he had tensed at Shamin's question. He knew what happened out in Winter.

_Damn, I hope he is_.

****

Ash felt himself shivering, chilled. Part of him wanted to open his eyes and figure out where he was, but he was so tired. He moaned, feeling like his head wasn't even attached to his neck.

"Feeling better?" a voice whispered. Ash felt something tug on his hair, and then a hand rest on his forehead. "Still a little cold." The hand ran down the side of his face.

He might have fallen back asleep, he wasn't sure, but his mind slowly started to drift back into consciousness. Ash tried to pry his eyes open and attempted to blink the blurry ceiling area into focus. It was dark with dancing shadows on the surface.

It was hard to breathe, like something heavy was on his chest. He coughed and tried to sit up, but it seemed like too much effort. Ash turned his head, then ran into a mass of purple-violet. "Wah?" he muttered, attempting to push himself away.

The blob moved, and suddenly a pair of huge violet eye blinked awake, staring at his face.

It took Ash a moment for it to sink in, then he blinked back. "Who?"

The lips smiled crookedly, and the hair was sent back with a swing of the hand. "How do you feel?" she asked.

"O-okay," he replied, watching as the slender hand was set on his own head, similar to when his mother took his temperature. "Who are you?"

The girl giggled, coming closer. "You're still a bit cold," she whispered. Her fingers twirled around his hair and tugged hard.

"Oww! Stop that . . ." He trailed off, feeling something brush up against his leg. Suddenly he looked at the girl, eyes wide. "Could you, like back up?"

She giggled again, slipping her hand under the blanket—they seemed to be in a double sleeping bag—and onto his chest. Ash blinked, suddenly realized that he was just wearing a pair of boxers that were suddenly very uncomfortable. And she, who ever she was, didn't seem to be wearing anything. He had gotten a peek—_accidentally_!—when she had moved closer.

"Umm, please, um . . ." he squeaked, trying to push himself away. It was suddenly very hot under this bag. "I'm fine."

Her smile tilted sideways as she pushed herself up. Ash gulped and tried to avert his eyes to more appropriate places. "Ash," she smiled, shaking her head.

"How do you know my name?"

"I was informed," she smiled, running a hand over his chest and side of his face. "You've been out over a day. You almost died from the cold."

"Oh." He tried to push his head through the pillow and floor as she lowered her head.

"Yes," she whispered. "Your Pokémon helped save you, and you were brought here. But you needed to warm up." She smiled, blinking her eyes slowly.

He gulped. "I think . . . I'm warm enough." He could feel her breath on him.

She twirled her hand into his hair and yanked hard, seemingly enjoying his pain and embarrassment.

"Hmm, really? Humans should be around 98.6 degrees. You're a few degrees under." And slowly she kissed him deeply.

It seemed like an eternity—and yet not nearly long enough—before her lips left his. "There," she murmured. "Now you're warm."

He stared at her mutely.

"I'll have to tell the others your better now," she sighed, sounding a tad disappointed.

Questions were lined up in Ash's mind, but his mouth wouldn't allow sounds to come out. His skin was alive, feeling her touch. His head was dizzy.

The girl leaned over and down and whispered in his ear, "Go to sleep, Ash. Pooka League is very demanding."

"Pooka? I'm he—" Her finger stopped his lips.

"Shh. Sleep." The girl lied down next to him, running her hand over his chest.

Ash gulped. And how, pray tell, was he supposed to fall asleep _now_?

And yet, surprisingly, Ash felt himself slowly drift asleep as the girl hummed.

****

"But Miriam, it's so cute!" Shamin cried, clutching Pyro.

"No!" Miriam sneezed, throwing back her arm to chuck a rock at the creature in the tree. "That frinkin' little rodent stole my stuff!"

"It was a sock!"

"My sock! Hey, don't ya put that on yar tail! No! No!" Miriam gritted her teeth and the Pokémon purposely disobeyed the order. "Ya'd better not have fleas!" She glared at Shamin. "Let him go! That rodent dies!"

"Miriam! No! It's just playing!" Shamin tried to keep hold of the squirming Pyro.

"Stop scratching me, Pyro!"

Miriam glared up in the tree, sniffing. Damn, she was getting a cold. "I hate Pokémon!"

"NINE!"

"Ya know what I mean! Ya come down here right now!"

"See-see gippy!"

"Don't ya bad mouth me, ya vile thief!"

Shamin blinked at Miriam. "You understood it?"

She snorted. "No. But I _know_. Come down here!" She threw the rock up, but the creature dodged it easily. "I am not leavin' until I get my sock back!"

"Miriam! What about Shan!"

"My sock is more important than him!"

Shamin stood appalled. "Miriam!"

"Well, fine, but right now my sock's more important than him! GIVE IT BACK! Those socks costed me twenty bucks! And I paid for those!"

"Really?" Shamin almost dropped Pyro from her surprise, and the fox himself looked at his Mistress in a dumb shock.

Miriam whirled on her, cheeks red. "Yes, _really_! Ya really think I wanted Blondie harpin' to me about stealin' _socks_?! I do have _some_ standards! What, ya didn't think I knew _how_ to pay for somethin'?"

"Umm, not really," Shamin squeaked. Suddenly, she blinked, looking past Miriam. "Um, socks come in pairs right?"

"_Yes_! One for each foot!"

"W-well, you kinda got a pair of socks in the trees now. And some other things."

Miriam's eyes went wide, and she whirled, seeing most of her clothing up in the tree now.

"How the Hell? Is my pack open!" She reached over her back and felt the lid was still closed. "Give those back!"

Shamin frowned, shifting Pyro to grabbed her Pokédex and point it at the items of clothing. "Gip-Si, the S-qu-irrle Po-ké-mon. No val-id in-for-ma-tion."

"What the hell does that mean!" Miriam yelled.

Shamin shrugged and pushed a button, the one the she understood to give more information. Well, every other time she pushed it, she ended up knowing more than she wanted. "Po-ké-mon is shy and r-are—"

"Like Hell!" Miriam spat as it spewed out the last recorded number, over a hundred years ago, of GipSies.

"—Stu-dies on Gip-Si are not up-to-date. In-for-ma-tion is ba-sed on hist-or-i-cal wri-tings. Gip-Si were con-sid-ered pe-sts and not pop-u-lar Po-ké-mon for Train-ers be-cau-se of sh-ort at-ten-tion sp-ans and in-a-bil-ity to un-der-sta-nd Hu-man sp-eech."

"See, Miriam. It doesn't understand you," Shamin smiled.

"Yeah, right!"

Dexter continued. "Gip-Sies are nat-ive to on-ly cold cli-mates. They o-ver-heat ver-y eas-ily. Due to la-ck of suit-able en-vi-ro-ment, num-bers, and nat-ur-al shy-ness of Gip-Sies, they h-ave not been seen for man-y year-s."

Shamin slapped the cover shut while Miriam snorted. "_Another_ rare Pokémon? How many frickin' things are there?"

"They move pretty quickly," Shamin commented, interested. "You know, if they like stealing, we could train them." She grinned.

Miriam blinked, and also smiled. "Maybe. But since they don't understand Humans, ya have yar work cut out for ya."

"Don't you mean 'our' work?"

She laughed. "Hell, no! I ain't wastin' my time trainin' a rodent. I only take big, strong, cute ones like Pyro." She scooped up Pyro from Shamin's arms. "Now, Pyro, climb up the tree and fry those rodents."

"Miriam!" Shamin scolded.

"What? They _deserve_ it!"

"No, they don't!"

"Yes, they—"

"Are you ladies lost?"

Miriam and Shamin snapped their head up to see a parka-covered figure standing down a ways.

"N-no," Miriam almost sneered, hating to play Damsel in Distress if it wasn't to her immediate advantage.

The man walked closer, bringing down his deep violet hood and revealing spiked raven-colored hair. He smiled crookedly at them. "Are you sure?"

"Yes!"

"We're looking for someone," Shamin explained. "_He's_ probably lost."

The man thought about that information for a second, but didn't say what was on his mind. "Are you cold then?"

"It is Winter, dork," Miriam muttered. "Look, we don't need any help. All we're doin' is tryin' to get my stuff back from those thieves."

"Then it looks like you need help."

"Would y—?"

Miriam slapped her hand over Shamin's mouth. "No, we can manage."

"Really?"

"Y . . . yes," she trailed off as the man let out a few whistles and the GipSies crawled down with her stuff. "How'd ya do that?"

He grinned, watching Miriam toss Shamin her bag and the younger girl scoop up the clothes.

"My secret. Now, ladies, do you need help?"

Shamin sighed, shoving the clothes in. "Look, have you see this boy? Blond hair, brown eyes, shorter than me? Has a Pikachu?"

The man rubbed his cheek thoughtfully. "Well, I haven't actually _seen_ him."

"But you know where he is?" Shamin demanded, jumping up excitably.

"Not exactly."

"Just give us to the nearest mile," Miriam sneered.

"Past the river."

"I told you he'd cross!" Shamin yelled at Miriam.

"Idiot! Doesn't he how think that ice isn't!" Miriam snapped under her breath. "He get across all right?"

The man shrugged. "Suppose."

Miriam sucked her teeth. "Look, Mister, can ya take us to him?"

"Yes."

They stood, waiting for him to get walking. "Well?" Miriam drawled.

"What?" he asked innocently.

"Aren't you going to take us to Shan?" Shamin pleaded.

"Why should I?"

"You said you would!"

He smiled evilly. "No I didn't. You asked if I could, not if I will."

Miriam gritted her teeth. Of all the idiots in the forest, they had to get the grammatically correct one. "_Will_ you take us then? _Please_."

"I'd be delighted, gentlewomen."

"Keep actin' like this, and ya'll find I'm not so gentle," Miriam muttered.

"Miriam, be nice," Shamin, pleaded. "He's the only one who can take us where Shan is. _Please_?"

Miriam didn't answer.

****

Ash sat up slowly and stretched his arms, then let out a series of hacking coughs. When he was finished, he looked around the room. He was alone—Ash wasn't sure if he was disappointed or relieved at the fact—in an empty stone chamber, no windows and only one door covered with a sheet leading out. Five torches burned, three on the each of the walls and one on either side of the door. Carefully he slid out of his bag and waveringly stood up. The tiles were cold under his feet, and it wasn't nearly as warm out of the bag as it was in it. He coughed again, wrapping his arms around his bare chest, and started for the door.

Drawing back the sheet, Ash found himself looking down a dimly lit hallway. Carefully he started down it. It was colder now, and he shivered uncontrollably. He needed his clothes.

Suddenly Ash blinked and grounded to a halt. Where were his Pokémon? His bag? Clothes? Where was he? And how'd he get here?

That girl, he had to find that girl and ask her. He blushed slightly, remembering their last encounter.

Ash started to walk again, feet almost frozen. The floor was like ice. Dimly Ash imaged how his mother would react a him running around in drafty corridors after falling through ice, how his father would tell him that he had to take better care of himself. He smiled slightly, then the guilt started to gnaw at him again. What kind of son was he, running away from them? What excuse did he have? How could they still love him after what he did?

He sniffed, looking down at his feet and rubbing his arms for warmth. It was a constant worry now, that his parent would never want to see him again, that they hated him. What good were letters? He had left them. His fault, no one else's. His parents had loved him, didn't do anything that wasn't out of their parental duties. He betrayed them, and now how in the world could they still love him?

Ash always said he'd go back when he finished his training, but now he wondered if he'd have to eat his words. Miriam said only a handful of runaways ever went back home of their own freewill, which is why she wasn't going to return. Shamin barely remembered anything about her home life, not because she left when she was terribly young, but because she was lucky enough to be able to forget. They thought his parents knew what was going on and approved. Ash bit his lip. He was no better than them in reality. He lied to them, but Ash admitted he never crossed that line that allowed him to use them. He wouldn't cross that line, ever.

Coughing, he leaned up against a wall, suddenly tired mentally and physically. He couldn't go back home and face rejection from his parents, even if he as Hell deserved it. What would be the point of living if that happened to him? Ash bit his knuckles in thought. Here he was, fourteen, lost, alone, sick, friendless (humanly speaking), almost naked, and afraid. There was only one plus side to this, which was that he had money, but what good was that in the long run? He had to go back, but he couldn't. If his parents . . .

He slid down the cold wall and sat heavily on the floor, wrapping his arms around his knees and burying his head in them, ignoring the cold that seeped into his bones. He wouldn't cry, he wouldn't cry, he wouldn't cry. His chest hurt suddenly, and he coughed hard. His cheeks were suddenly wet.

He sat for a long time; growing colder the longer he sat. But Ash didn't want to move. He had nowhere to go, and despair was gaining a ground the more he thought about his situation.

"Hey, Lad, you wanna give me a hand?"

Ash lifted his head to see a tall, lanky man in a near black robe standing down the hall, arms laden with many books. Wiping his eyes, Ash stood up and walked over shakily. "Ahh, sure, Sir."

The man smiled, looking down at Ash through triangular-shaped spectacles. "Good," he sighed, dropping the books into Ash's arms. Ash staggered, not expecting to get the whole load and still weak. "Follow me, Lad."

Ash grunted and tried to look past the books to see where the man was going. "Can you, uhh, take a few of these books? I don't think I can hold them all."

The man chuckled. "Don't worry. We're almost there. Just down the hall a bit."

"Ah, right," he groaned, staggering and trying to keep the pile balanced. A few of the books slid off, but the man paid them no mind when Ash tried to tell him.

"Just put them on the table, Lad," he smiled when he opened the door and allowed Ash to pass. Ash let them fall from his arms less gracefully than he wished to, but his arms were so tired. The man sat down in a chair and opened a book, now paying Ash no heed.

Ash looked around the room. It was warmer than the wall, a fire in the hearth warming his body a few degrees. He walked closer over and huddled next to the fire to get warmer. The stones under his feet were still cold, and the walls were just as bare as the other room he had been in.

"If you're cold, Lad, your robe is above the fire, and a pair of slippers."

"My robe?" Ash questioned, standing up look over the mantle. There was a folded piece of cloth there, and he pulled it down. It was green and brown, and Ash remembered it from the robe he got from Ratwa.

"So you've been to Ratwa, Lad?" the man asked while Ash slipped the robe on, then the dark slippers.

"Yeah. How'd you know?" he asked, suddenly warm. The fabric was warmer than it looked. It must be made of a hybrid of Caterpie/Venonat silk. That stuff was expensive. He remembered that one time when he had gasped at the price tag of a dress made of the same material Misty had shown him when there was some Pokémon formal thing going on, and they all had to go. He had asked her why she couldn't just wear a dress she already had, since that one was so expensive and she'd only wear it once. Misty had just scoffed and said he'd never understand. She was right.

"Only Ratwa uses the deer emblem anymore, Lad. And the colors signify Ratwa as well. Green and brown, forest colors. Very primitive and predictable."

"You know about Ratwa?" Ash asked, walking silently over. The slippers absorbed any sound he'd make.

The man turned and grinned at his naïveté "Lad, I know much about ancient and new Pokémon leagues. More than any one alive or dead ever. Not to sound conceited or anything, of course."

"Of . . . course," Ash stuttered, then paused. "Do you know where Pooka is?"

"Of course."

Ash grinned and leaned forward against the table. "Where?"

"In the Pooka Forest." He smiled and turned a page.

"What . . . no! Where?" The man didn't answer, smirking, and Ash watched him carefully.

"Aren't you reading that book backwards?"

The man looked up and set the book aside. "No, Lad. This language is written, as you would see it, back to front, right to left."

"My name's not 'Lad'."

"Then what is it?" the man teased. "Shan . . . or Ash Ketchum?"

Ash jerked back. "How'd you know?" How did they know? The man from Ratwa knew as well, and now this guy, and that girl.

"You talk in your sleep." Ash looked at him blankly. He did? The man sighed. "We're not stupid. We know."

"How?"

"Never you mind."

"Well, what's your name?"

The man blinked. "Ga . . . Gus," he drawled slowly. "Are you hungry?"

"You bet!" Ash laughed, then coughed. Gus watched him carefully. Suddenly a memory flickered across Ash's brain. "Umm, do you know where my Pokémon are?"

Gus smiled. "Being taken care of, of course. They were terribly exhausted and sick from the cold. Totodile has gathered a nasty cold, and Cyndaquil is suffering from exhaustion."

Ash blinked, suddenly worried. "Will they be . . . all right?" he whispered. Oh, God, if anything happened to any of them, he'd never forgive himself.

"In time, yes. I'm glad you remembered about them, Ash."

He breathed a sigh of relief. "Can I see them?"

"Soon, soon. Along with a few of your other friends."

"Other friends?" Ash repeated.

Gus stood up. "A fellow of mine found them in the forest looking for you. It is a good day's travel before they will arrive though, for they will attempt to get here safety, not by crossing the river." The glasses glared down at him, and Ash shrank. "That was very dangerous, and you're extremely lucky the GipSies found you and your Pokémon. You'd be dead otherwise."

"I didn't know we were over the river," Ash whispered, banging his slipper against the ground and twirling his fingers, not looking at Gus. "I'm not very good at reading maps, either."

"And you weren't paying attention, were you?" Gus demanded harshly, hands on his hips.

"I guess not," Ash muttered.

"A Trainer always has to pay attention and know where he is, Ash. For his own safety, and the safety of his Pokémon. Think if you had fallen through the ice and all your Pokémon went with you. They're not Ghost Pokémon, and that water would have either shorted out their Pokéballs and freed them under the freezing cold water or frozen them solid. Even your Totodile would have had problems if freed under the water, as a Pokémon's first instinct it to breathed in air when released, even water ones. Totodile is not completely a water-living Pokémon, as it comes on land. If you had a Gyarados or similar, maybe they'd have a chance, but you don't. All of those Pokémon would have been dead with you at the bottom of the river."

Ash winced at each of the words. What kind of Trainer was he? His eyes watered, but he refused to cry in front of this man.

"And that's not the worst of it," Gus continued, still speaking harshly. Ash gulped, wondering how much worse it could get. "You put two girls and their Pokémon in danger as well." He winced.

"Those two actually care about you, and you left them, for what? Because you felt betrayed. And why were you 'betrayed,' pray wonder?" Ash wondered how Gus knew all of this, but he held his tongue. "Winters here are not like where you come from, where you can walk out in a Tee-shirt and feel warm. They're cold, and you need warmth to survive. Those girls spent that money buying winter clothing for you and them."

"They didn't have to steal. We had money," Ash put in quietly, looking up at Gus to plead his case. The man glared down at Ash. "And they didn't even tell me. They just used me to get the money."

Gus looked at him hard. "So you had money, just you?" Ash nodded mutely. "So you guess they'd just come up to you and just leech of you, spend your money and none of theirs? You didn't think of that, did you, that they didn't want to _use_ you that way?"

"It would have been—"

Gus silenced him with a wave of his hand.

"Shut up and listen to me, Ash Ketchum. Those girls got money the only way they know how." He snorted at Ash. "I can't image what kind of Trainer you'd be if you continue to act so childishly."

Those words hurt more than anything else Gus had said, and Ash flinched worse than ever, hanging his head. His vision was blurred worse than ever and he gulped back the lump in his throat. He wanted to be a good Trainer, the world's greatest. He bit his lip to keep it from trembling and was glad his bangs were long so Gus couldn't see his face.

"Do you think Pokémon training is easy?" Gus demanded hotly.

Ash shook his head mutely.

"Well, there's one thing you're not ignorant on," the man snapped. "If you want to continue competing in these leagues, you'd better shape up. Or go back to Indigo, where winners are treated to world's recognition and commercial appearances." Gus snorted in disgust. "If that's your idea of Pokémon training. You don't compete for the glory, but for the honor of competing. That's Pokémon training, Ash, and if you can't do that, you just return home right now. Understand? These leagues won't give you any special privileges or looks because you won another, because we hate each other. We _loathe_ each other."

So he was Pooka, Ash thought in the back of his mind, but listened to what Gus was saying with more interest than this new knowledge. Suddenly he coughed hard, clutching his chest.

Gus watched Ash cough, not rushing to his side. "If you want to compete in the Pooka League, or any league, I give you this warning: Trainers here attack you and your weaknesses instead of your Pokémon. We believe it is the Trainer that decides the outcome, not the Pokémon one uses. And it is true, of course. Ratwa attempts to give you an idea of how a Pokémon thinks, while Pooka shows the Trainer himself. The other Leagues that ran this way have been long since destroyed though. A pity and disadvantage for you."

Ash clutched the table, coughing up phlegm. Suddenly he didn't feel so well. "Th-thank you, Gus," he whispered.

"Don't thank me just yet," Gus said coldly. "I don't think you should compete here. Ever."

"What?" he gasped.

"You're not up to the challenge; you're soft from this new world of Training. Why bother?"

Ash looked up sharply. "I can't just not compete! I have to at least try. Trainer's can't just walk away from a challenge because they think it's too hard! Then why bother training at all if you're afraid to lose!" He bit back his cough.

Gus raised an eyebrow. "Do you plan to compete here, then?"

"If I'm allowed, yes. Losing can teach me just as much as winning."

"I probably shouldn't tell you this, but in ancient times losers never got another chance. When you lost the battle, you lost everything."

"Everything?"

Gus didn't continue into the area. "Pooka doesn't work that way, of course, but the latter leagues do still."

"May I compete in Pooka, Gus?"

The man looked at him intently. "I have no bearing in this decision."

"Who does, then?" Ash asked quietly.

Gus looked at him almost angrily and didn't answer.

****

"Might I ask how ya crossed the river?" Miriam asked hotly, trying to keep up with their guide. Pyro leaped through the trees above them.

The man smiled at them, showing a line of seemingly sharp and straight teeth. "I flew, of course." Then he laughed. "Funny, huh?"

"Yeah, a real riot," Miriam said dryly.

"How far away are we, Sir?" Shamin asked, trying to balance her pack on her shoulders, which seemed to somehow have everyone else's stuff in it. Luckily she got to walk in the other's footprints, otherwise she'd be terribly far behind.

"That all depends on what you're wondering about," he smiled. "I like Winter, don't you?"

"No," Miriam sneered. "It's too cold. I'll take the beach any day."

The man laughed, shifting his hood. "You're very funny, Miriam. Yes, very."

"And ya're a few canteens short," she muttered.

"What's your name anyway, Sir? You seem to know ours. Did Shan tell you?"

He smiled. "I personally have never met the lad. But, as to my name, it's . . ." He paused, like he had forgotten it. "Hunter, that's it." He laughed again.

"Nice to meet you, Hunter," Shamin smiled.

"Yes, a pleasure," Miriam said sarcastically.

"Of course it is," Hunter smiled.

"Whoa, glad he's not modest," Miriam muttered, slowing her step.

"What's your problem?" Shamin demanded.

"My problem?"

"With Hunter. You're oozing sarcasm. More than usual, anyway."

Miriam looked up and held out her arms, allowing Pyro to jump into them. "I don't trust him, all right. There's something about him. I can't place it, but it rubs me the wrong way." She shuddered.

Pyro growled his agreement, burying himself in Miriam's arms. _Hunter_ didn't smell right, and the fox wondered if the man's name held any secret meanings, if _Hunter_ was the _hunter_. Pyro didn't like being the _hunted_, and if he was, the roles were seriously going to be reversed.

"I think he's all right," Shamin countered.

"But ya think Blondie's all right, too, but then again there's no judgement for character."

Shamin bristled. "You're just too suspicious."

"Ya're too trustin'," Miriam snarled.

"Come on, Ladies. Don't lag behind, now!" Hunter called a distance away.

"We're coming," Shamin replied, speeding up.

Miriam stood quietly, petting Pyro. "Ya keep an eye on this one, Pyro, right?" He growled in agreement. "Good."

****

Ash sighed despondently, scooping and dumping his soup with his spoon. Gus had led him to the dining hall and then left him. The Trainer was okay, Ash admitted, but his attitude had changed so rapidly. First he started out as a nice guy, then started to point out every flaw Ash had ever had with meticulously correct detail. How had the guy known all he did? Was this some kind of conspiracy or something?

He hadn't expected these Leagues to be so different from the ones back home, but it was like night and day, or at least twilight. Ash had thought that the Leagues back home were hard, but Gus spoke of them like they were a walk in the park. And he sounded disgusted that they were even run. Ash remembered listening to Gus spew out oaths about Indigo and its vanity, champions, tests, and "difficulty" as they walked down the mass of corridors.

"Top sixteen, huh?" he had sneered when he had asked Ash what place he had gotten. Ash gulped, wondering if Gus knew he had lost against Richie by using an untrained Pokémon. It hurt to remember Charizard, and Ash hoped the big lizard was still training hard. In truth, Ash was really touched that Charizard had remembered about him, and had gone to Professor Oak's to see him all those months ago. It made he feel that he was at least some sort of worth as a Trainer, but Ash didn't tell this to Gus. Hopefully Charizard was still training in the Valley, getting stronger. And he had visited Ash, even after his Trainer had released him. That was a great sense of Loyalty, Ash felt, if a Pokémon returned back to its Trainer, even for a visit.

Gus had grunted something, interrupting Ash's thoughts at the time, but didn't divulge whatever had caused the noise. Ash had been silently glad. The Trainer had a very special knack for knocking him into place, destroying his ego and pride—which Ash knew were his especially weak points. He had this sort of air around him, a troubling air, for sure, but one that showed he knew what he was talking about. If Gus didn't believe something, Ash knew it probably had good reason. And he bet the Trainer was rarely wrong.

When he had asked Ash if he had any goals, Ash had quietly admitted he wanted to be the World's Greatest Pokémon Master. At that Gus had stopped and turned slowly, looking at Ash in a sort of stupor. Then his eyes went over the boy, as if mentally summing him up. Ash almost winced as the eyes went over his wild and long hair, dirty cheeks, chewed fingernails, lean body, wide eyes, big ears, big mouth, and waited for the verdict.

"You've got your work cut out for you, then," Gus had simply said, turning smartly.

They had walked a bit longer—the dining hall must have been on the opposite side of the building—before Ash finally summoned up the courage to ask, "Do you think I could ever be?"

"Be what?" Gus had asked curtly, pushing open a door.

"The Best," Ash said quietly. Gus must be playing games with him.

"Do you know that there is a price for being the best?" Gus had countered.

Ash was quiet. "I heard from that man at Ratwa, I think, something about losing standards. Is that it?"

"Maybe, for some. But there is another price."

"Wh—"

Gus had cut him off. "How do you plan to be the Best?"

"Competing."

"There is more to being Great than by just winning." Ash was silent. "So you want to be the World's Greatest Pokémon Battler?"

"No, the Greatest Master," he corrected softly.

"And what is a Master, Ash? Hmm, what?"

He wasn't sure what Gus wanted, so he feigned his stupidity. "I . . . I don't know."

Gus had chuckled grimly. "You aspire to be something and you don't even know what it is. Pathetic."

Ash had to bite back his temper. "I always thought a Master was someone who understood Pokémon, who could get them to do their best in a battle and was their friend," he said hotly.

He'd looked over his shoulder at Ash. "And you said you didn't know."

"Am I right?"

"Maybe," he'd said, shrugging. "So you wish to be the best, of everything? Well, you can't. It's impossible."

Ash hung his head. His dream was foolish, just like his father had said. "Why?"

"It just is. You can't be the best at everything without having dire consequences that I wouldn't even wish upon my worst enemy. You become consumed by the very being of being the Greatest; become an empty shell of a person. Nothing to live for, because you had given up your life and soul to be the Greatest; and only for a second. Someone else is always training to usurp your position, and when you lose your position you'd be destroyed. No, the price for being the best is having to be the best, forever, for your own sake of being. A terrible price."

"But I don't have to go that far," Ash'd pleaded. "I just want to be good."

"Good for others to see, or for you to see when you look in the mirror, or for something else?"

"I don't know! I just want to be the Greatest Master!"

"And the fame would mean nothing to you, the money, the women, the admiration, the place in history?" Gus had sneered sarcastically.

"I don't know," Ash had said helplessly.

"Don't know much, do you?"

"No!"

Gus had left him with that, for they had reached the dining hall finally. The soup had been already out, and Gus had simply left once Ash had gotten settled. That was over an hour ago.

Ash sniffed, digging the heel of his palm into his eye. Maybe he should just give up and go home. It'd be better, maybe.

No, he couldn't just give up and quit. That'd be even worse than whatever could come. And Ketchums weren't quitters, that was for sure. They may be stupid, hotheaded, stubborn, ignorant, blind on some areas, immature, loud, brash, impatient, totally hopeless in . . . Ash suddenly stopped, feeling he had made his point, and then continued. But they certainly weren't quitters.

He coughed, then pushed himself away from the table. Originally Ash planned to stay put until someone came to get him, but that was a long and boring time ago. Besides, he really wanted to find his Pokémon and make sure they were all right.

There was a possibility of taking five doors out of this room, and Ash picked one at random. He didn't even remember which one he had entered through. Now that he was dressed, the building didn't feel nearly as cold as before.

Torches spaced about twenty feet apart, staggered so that at the midpoint of two on one wall the other wall had a torch burning, lighting the area. There were no windows, tapestries, paintings, suits of armor, statues, to decorate the hall, something Ash felt would have seriously completed the picture. He wondered if he was in some sort of castle of lore where knights and their Pokémon fought valiantly for princesses or something. Then he berated himself. Those were foolish images, and Gus would have scolded him up the wall for even thinking them plausible.

Even still, Ash smiled, just imagining how it would have been, with trumpets blaring their fanfares and banners waving in the wind. And the shining knights would come riding up on their Rapidash and get rid of the dragon that was terrorizing the castle . . .

Ash paused. That didn't make a lot of sense, come to think about it. The knights couldn't wear metal because that'd absorb the Rapidash's heat from the flames. That was common sense, because if the Rapidash got startled, its first response is always to turn up the heat of its flames. No matter how well trained a Rapidash would always do that. It was like training yourself not to blink when someone startles you. It's a response to protect yourself.

He shrugged. Maybe they didn't ride Rapidash. Well, they couldn't ride water Pokémon, because then they'd get all rusted up.

Well, whatever.

Stopping at the first door—already he was a distance away from the hall—Ash flexed his fingers over the knob, debating whether or not he should enter. What was behind Door #1? Is it a Brand New Car, or maybe an All-Expensive-Paid Trip Around the World? Or was it the Booby Prize?

He smiled. _Way_ too much time hanging around with Miriam and Shamin. Ash shook his head, then turned the knob and gave it a hard push.

Lights immediately lit the room up, fire bursting in the hearth. He blinked, looking around. The room was also empty, save a mat in front of the fire. Carefully he walked in, leaving the door hanging open. It still was as empty as it had been when he had glanced in from the hall. A film of dust was on the floor, and Ash slowly backed up, closing the door behind him. He could hear the torches and fire extinguish themselves.

"Ghosts," he murmured, speeding up his pace to put some distance between him and the door. He wondered if they were Human ghosts, or Pokémon. (Miriam had once asked him just _where did Ghost Pokémon come from?!_ When he said no one really knew, she had then suggested the theory that Ghost Pokémon were actually Human souls or whatever, that the Pokémon were actually Humans. Ash had made no comment to the statement, intrigued in the theory and the fact that _Miriam_ had given it. He had even wondered if the Ghost Pokémon knew where they came from.)

Ash ran into a dead end before he ran into another door. The corridor had suddenly crashed in on itself, probably years ago, and no one had bothered to clear it. Sighing, Ash turned around and started back, walking rapidly. Suddenly he felt very alone. He didn't know why, but he wanted to find someone, anyone.

He was running full out by the time he reentered the dining hall, and he bent over and grasped his knees, coughing and gasping. A crash made him look up, and he saw his soup bowl twirling on the floor.

"What?" he muttered, walking slowly over to the upturned dish.

It was still spinning around when he bent next to it. He took a deep breath, hands over the bowl, preparing to lift it up, when suddenly it took off down like a shot.

"Huh?!" he yelled, falling back on his butt from surprise. The bowl ran into a wall near an exit, then down the hall, bouncing off the walls every few feet every other second. "Hey, come back!" Ash called, leaping up and running after the runaway dishware.

The bowl sped up, hitting the walls with even greater frequency. It could move faster than he could run, a lot faster, and it quickly left Ash's sight as it followed the turn of the hall. The only way Ash knew it was still in front of him was because he could hear the ever-constant _BANG! BANG! BANG!_

Suddenly he heard a yelp, and a _bang-bash-clonk-clonk-wham-bang-bang-wham-clank-crash_. Great, now whatever it was had probably hurt itself running into a corner or something. Ash ran a bit faster, then suddenly met the same "corner" the bowl ran into.

"Ow! Ow! Oowowow!" he yelped as he slipped down the narrow stairs. He ended up lying painfully on his side next to the broken fragments of what had once been his bowl. Ash gripped his side and pushed himself up into a sitting position, touching the fragments grimly. Suddenly his ears picked up a pattering sound, and he looked up to see a shadow against the wall running off.

"Hey! Stop, you!"

Of course it didn't stop, and Ash leaped painfully up and after it. He was running so fast, he missed a familiar face that had come to inspect the noise.

"Pikapi?"

Ash skidded to a halt and whirled around, almost losing his balance. "Pikachu!"

She leaped into his arms. "Pikapi!" she laughed as he hugged her. "Chu pikachu pika kaka pikachu?"

He laughed. "I'm fine. You?" She nodded happily. "Where are the others?" Pikachu pointed down the hall, and then said that they were all right as well. "Let's go see them."

They walked quickly down the hall, and there was another curtain being used as a door. Pikachu leaped from his arms and ran into the room, but Ash had to stoop to follow. And suddenly he was mob from all sides, being hugged from all his Pokémon.

"Damn, I'm so glad you're all right!" he laughed, hugging them all as well. "You all are all right, right?"

They all nodded, although Totodile added a great sneeze, dousing Ash with a small water gun. The other Pokémon all laughed, all being "attacked" in this manner before, while Totodile looked abashed.

Ash laughed, wringing his robe. "It's all right, Totodile." Then he grew serious. "Look, I'm sorry, guys. I was really stupid." The Pokémon looked at each other in the manner that said, "When isn't he?" but waited for Ash to continue. "I could have gotten us all seriously hurt, maybe killed, and I'm sorry. Thanks for looking out for me." He smiled at them. "I'll try to be more careful. Promise."

They smiled their forgiveness, cuddling closer. Ash sighed, leaned against the wall, and closed his eyes, petting the Pokémon. They circled him, and everyone gave a good sniff from their individual colds. Ash slowly drifted asleep.

"And how the Hell did you get in here!?" roared a voice.

Everyone jumped, Ash's eyes jolted open and pressed himself against the wall. A gigantic man with a wild spiked plum-colored hair and red eyes glaring down at him. He was covered in shadows and looked dangerous with his glittering teeth stretched into a sneer.

Ash couldn't move his mouth to form words, the man was so frightening.

"Answer me! What the Hell you doing in here!"

****

"Knock it off!" Miriam screamed. "All of ya!"

Shamin instantly dropped her snowball, but Hunter continued throwing his with a wide grin.

"Hunter, I think you'd better stop," Shamin warned.

"What for?" he grinned at her, enjoying Miriam's glares.

"Um," Shamin looked up, and watched as Pyro leaped onto Hunter's head, biting his ear. "That's why."

Hunter howled in pain as Pyro ran circles around his head, scratching his cheeks and biting savagely. Suddenly Pyro leaped away, and Hunter's head was a giant flame. With a scream, Hunter buried his head in the snow.

"Serves ya right!" Miriam spat, stomping over. "And if I wasn't a lady, I'd give ya a frinkin' good kick in the groin and make sure ya never have kids!"

The guilty man raised his head, a goofy grin on his face. "Jolly good show, Miriam!" he laughed loudly. Shamin reeled her head, backing up.

"What!" Miriam roared. Pyro bent his head and growled savagely.

Hunter rubbed his tender head, still laughing madly. "Wonderful, wonderful!" He started to walk away.

Shamin looked at Miriam with wide eyes. "What's with him?"

"He's certifiable!" Miriam screamed. "We're followin' a nutcase! One nut to find the other!"

"He can't be crazy!"

"He just had his entire head lit up like a match, and he thought it was a jolly good joke! What does that say to ya! Look, we're losin' this crackpot!"

"But he's the only one that can take us to Shan!"

"In how many pieces? Look, Shammy, we'll end up dead if we follow him!"

"Come on, girls!" Hunter called.

"Miriam, come on. We got to be almost there," Shamin pleaded.

"In our graves?" Miriam snapped sarcastically. "I won't follow him anymore! He's already tripped me, thrown snowballs at me, thrown my pack up a tree, gave me a face wash, attempted to have me fall down a hole! I seriously doubt I'll be alive by the time I get to wherever the Hell Shan is!"

Shamin gave her the puppy eyes. "Miriam, he probably likes you or something," she tried.

"_What_?!"

"Like when first-graders push the girls in the playground. He wants you to notice him," Shamin said, trying to grasp at any plausible idea.

Miriam looked horrified. "Screw that!"

"Miriam!"

"Yoo hoo! Girls! Get moving!" Hunter called. His head was still smoking.

Shamin gripped Miriam's arm and started to drag the older woman while she screamed,

"NO! NO! NO!"

****

"Are you a mute! Answer me! What are you doing in here!" the man demanded.

"I-I-I w-w-was just-t ch-checking my-my Po-Pokémon," Ash stuttered. It would have been better if sound actually came out of his mouth.

The man narrowed his eyes dangerously.

"Pikachu pika kaka chu," Pikachu stepped in, seeing that Ash was literally frozen to the spot.

"Pikapi chuka Pikachu pi pichupi."

The man blinked, suddenly looking at Ash's pale face. His face broke into a wide grin.

"Sorry, Son. Did you think I was yelling at you?" Ash nodded wildly, and the man laughed.

"Oh, no. I was yelling at this—" he reached for Ash's head, and Ash squeezed his eyes shut in fear—"little pest." Ash opened his eyes to see the man holding a black shivering mass of fur by the tail. "Now what are you doing in here?" the man said in a not-so-patient voice.

The creature opened its emerald-green eyes and looked helplessly up at the man. "Gip?" it squeaked.

"_Really_?" he said icily. "I thought we made it clear that you and your kind were to stay out of this building. Were you confused at some point?"

It shrank into a small ball. "Gip."

Ash watched the creature shiver fearfully, and stood up quickly. "It's my fault, Sir." He didn't even pass the man's chest.

The man looked down at him over his powerful chest. "Excuse me?"

"I said it was my fault," Ash gulped, praying he wasn't making his own funeral.

"Gip?" the creature mouthed, eyes open at its savior. It didn't quite understand what the boy was saying, but that the man's attention was diverted from it. That was a definite plus.

"I, um, found the . . . Pokémon outside and brought it in, it was so cold outside, and um, I'm sorry," he squeaked, hoping the man wouldn't ask how he got outside.

The man looked at Ash critically. "Really?"

"Yes, Sir," Ash said humbly. "I didn't know you didn't want them inside. It won't happen again."

Ash wasn't sure if the man believed him or not, but the man continued to stare at Ash. "Do you know why GipSies aren't allowed in here?"

"No, Sir."

"If you let one in, they all come in. And cause trouble. They're useless pests, can't do anything right. Don't even understand what you say to them."

"Then how can it know not to come inside if it doesn't understand what you say?" Ash countered.

The man glared at Ash. "They understand traps. We got ten this morning."

"Ten?"

"Killed, carcasses to the wild Pokémon about." The man looked at Ash. "So you brought this one in?"

Ash couldn't say no, otherwise the Pokémon would probably get killed, and he couldn't let that happen. "Yes, Sir. I did."

The man frowned, not liking the answer, and tossed the GipSi at Ash. "Keep it then, but don't let any more in."

Ash clutched the squirming mass of fur, trying to calm it. "Yes, Sir. I won't."

He watched Ash try and settle the Pokémon down, then asked, "So you're Ash, correct?"

"Yes, Sir."

The man crossed his arms over his large chest, studying Ash. The Pokémon stood at Ash's feet, Pikachu climbing up to his shoulder. The GipSi still huddled in a tiny ball in his arms. "Are you feeling better, then?"

"Yes, Sir." He felt he needed to add more. "Thank you for asking."

The man smiled suddenly. "Have you eaten?"

"Yes. Gus led me to the dining hall and gave me soup."

"Gus?" The man looked puzzled, then nodded. "Yes, yes, of course. Gus."

Ash would have dearly loved to ask the man what his name was, but couldn't get the nerve up. "Yes."

"So you wish to battle in Pooka?"

"Oh, yes, Sir," Ash said excitably, fear suddenly gone.

"You can drop the 'Sir', Ash," the man laughed.

"Yes, Si—" Ash stopped. "Can I battle? Gus won't tell me."

"We can't refuse you the option of battling," the man smiled. "It is considered rude, at least he said so. But I have talked to . . . Gus, and he considered it a waste of time. I agree, of course, on principle."

There was a sudden uproar of complaints from Ash's Pokémon, and the man laughed.

"For Pokémon who wouldn't even be battling, they are a feisty lot."

"I wouldn't get to use my Pokémon?" Ash asked.

The man shook his head, smiling. "No, no Pokémon are used in Pooka Competitions."

"Then . . . how does it work?"

"No hints, Ash. Gus won't allow it," he smiled. "If you wish to compete, be in the Great Hall. It will start the second the sun is down, and will last until the first bell toll of morning."

"I'll compete," Ash said confidently. "What do I have to do?"

The man smiled. "You shall be surprised. Until then."

****

"I told ya not to pass that line!" Miriam yelled, pushing Hunter away from her.

"What line?" Hunter laughed as he landed in the snow, then started to make a snow angel.

"Don't kill him, Miriam," Shamin pleaded, stepping in front of the woman. "It's not worth it."

"Yeah right!" Miriam sneered. "I'd be doin' Humankind a favor getting' that guy out of the gene pool! I bet he was disqualified from the race for shovin'!"

Shamin looked at her blankly, not getting the joke at the moment. "Just go to sleep, all right?"

"It's cold," Miriam said through gritted teeth. "And he's gonna drop snow on me, I know it."

"Pyro'll protect you," Shamin sighed, scanning the trees for the fox.

Miriam smiled slightly, remembering the fox. Pyro hated Hunter more than he hated Blondie. Smart fox. And they say you have to go to college to get knowledge like that! "Ya know, I bet he's leadin' us in circles."

"Quit being so suspicious, Miriam. If he was, we'd have seen our own footprints."

"Not if he's doin' a nautilus pattern or whatever," she countered, glaring that the man.

"A what?"

"It's like a shell, where you spiral out or somethin'."

"Oh. Where'd ya learn that?"

"Pinky and the Brain."

"Ah, cartoons. What can't you learn from them?" Shamin smiled.

Miriam smiled as well. "Blondie was watchin' them. That Rattata has a _big_ head, I'll tell ya. I'm surprised he doesn't fall over cuz it's so heavy."

"Miriam, it's a _cartoon_. In _cartoons_ things don't work according to normal physics or whatever."

"Wouldn't it be cool if they did in real life?" Miriam smiled. "Ya cut ya're hair in one episode, and it's back to normal the next show. I'd like that, and I bet Hunter would." She laughed, looking at his bald head, the burn-blisters forming. It wasn't exactly the most pleasing sight, but Miriam though he deserved it.

Shamin sat thoughtfully on her sleeping bag. "Miriam, do you think we could be a cartoon?"

"What?"

"Well, haven't ya seen that movie where it turns out they're all just a book some kid's reading? Couldn't we be like that?"

Miriam looked at her. "O-okay . . . so what happens if the 'author' doesn't finish writin' the book? What happens to us?"

Shamin rolled her eyes at her. "Miriam, you know what I mean. Haven't you ever thought about that? There's this one religion that says were just God's dream, and when he wakes us, we're _POOF!_"

"I'll slip him some Valium, then."

"Ha ha. You mean you've never thought about that?"

"No. See, I'm _normal_. I think of _normal _stuff, not religious _psy-call-oh-gee_ or _philly-o-sophy_ or whatever."

Shamin glared at her. "Not funny. But Miriam, just think about it. What if we're really just nothing?"

"We are just nothing."

"That's low self-esteem."

Miriam snorted. "Bull. That's fact." She sighed, and didn't continue into the area. "Why are ya thinkin' about Religion? Ya aren't considerably religious, last time I checked. People only get that way if they think . . . Oh, Shamin, ya're not worryin' 'bout dyin'!"

"I'm not thinking about my Death, Miriam, although I should be out here," Shamin sighed, rubbing her arms. "Except there ain't no way I'm getting up there."

"Don't talk that way," Miriam smiled. "I think everyone gets where they belong."

"And maybe I don't belong in Heaven?" Shamin said, giving a crooked smile.

_This was serious_, Miriam thought. "Shammy, if anyone belongs up there, ya do, all right. Myself, I figure a few years next to the furnace, but nothing serious. She's all-forgivin', ya know."

"Who?"

"God, silly. She has to be, cuz she knows everything. To understand everythin' is to forgive everythin'. I read that somewhere."

"God's a girl?"

Miriam laughed at her silliness. "Of course. Damn, if God was a guy, we'd have serious problems, ya know. Ya know how men like explosions and sports and belchin' and stuff." She shuddered. "Just _think_ how screwed up life would be with someone like that in charge. Not a pretty picture, I think. Nope, He is definitely a _She_. People only say She's a guy so the men can feel special. Ya know how easily their ego breaks."

"That is one messed up view of God, Miriam," Shamin said slowly.

"Ya don't believe me, she who says we're a cartoon or book?" Miriam grinned. "Get some sleep and dream up ya're own little Universe."

"Do you think they remember us when they wake up?"

"God, I hope not."

"Why not?"

"They say if ya remember who ya dreamed about when ya wake up, that's who ya're gonna marry."

"Really?" Shamin sat up again. "And why don't ya want to get remembered by God?"

"Call me weird, but I don't want to marry someone who made me up. That's just . . . weird."

Shamin nodded. "Do you remember who you dream about, then?"

"Do ya?"

She shrugged, lying back down.

"There's yar answer," Miriam sighed, closing her eyes. "Night, Shammy."

****

Ash followed Pikachu through the hall, after telling the other Pokémon to rest and heal up. He thought Pikachu should rest as well, but, well, _someone_ had to guide him through the winding corridors.

GipSi was curled asleep in the right pocket of his robe, out of sight. Ash didn't want to chance angering anyone else, should they see her. Pikachu had informed him that GipSi was girl, and that it was her who saved his life. That was part of the reason the "Keepers", as Gus and Company were called by the forest Pokémon, where so ticked at seeing her inside again. This GipSi was the only one that had been able to get in and out of the building more than once, and live to tell the tale. Not that she did, of course, because that would just make it easier pick her out of the clan of GipSies around.

She was an extremely agile creature, and light. Ash almost forgot that she was in his pocket, and she'd bitten his finger when he had shoved his hand in the opening, scolding him for waking her. And those tiny teeth were _sharp_, he remembered, still sucking on his finger to stop the bleeding.

GipSi was also very chatty when awake. Ash had to wonder how Pikachu or the other Pokémon could keep up with the rapid conversation she put forth. He knew he couldn't understand her yet, because a Trainer needed at least a few months to proficiently understand Pokémon speech. It was only now that Shamin could almost figure out what Pikachu was stating, if Pikachu went slowly and spoke clearly. But even now GipSi chatted his ears off worse than any girl he had ever known had, and that was some . . . um, accomplishment.

Ash looked at the walls. Here tapestries were hung, old tapestries with faded pictures and gold tassel. Most looked like they housed the same scene, only with different actors. They were always edged with dark colors, purple-black, and the inner portions shone brilliantly with brighter, swirling colors. The humans in the center were always looking at Ash as he walked by, their eyes wide open and clutching an open Pokéball, the red energy scattering out to the sides. Ash thought they looked afraid. Around them were strange creatures in different forms, and no matter how hard Ash squinted, he couldn't tell what kind of Pokémon they were. It was like their features were constantly changing, even in these still-lives. The energy for the Pokéball couldn't seem to get close to them either, for Ash thought that every time he blinked the streaks were in a different area.

His stopped at the last one. It looked incomplete, showing no person standing in the fabrics. It took Pikachu a moment to realize Ash was no longer following her—not that he had been following her very avidly down this corridor—and she turned. "Pikapi?"

"Look at this, Pikachu," he murmured, touching the fabric with his fingertips. It was just as soft as his own robe, probably made of the some expensive thread.

Pikachu sniffed, wiping her nose, and walked over on her hindlegs, looking at the canvass. She saw nothing interesting about it, and spoke her confusion.

"It's the only one not done. Why would they hang it up if it wasn't finished?"

"Pika chu kaka pikachu," she volunteered as she climbed up to his shoulder. Once perched, she tilted her head to look at it again.

"'Maybe it _is_ done'?" Ash shook his head. "I don't think so. It doesn't look like the others, I mean."

Pikachu shrugged, leaning forward to sniff the fabric. It didn't have that "new" smell, which it should if it was just made. "Pika chuchu pikachu."

Ash sighed. "Maybe you're right."

"Pika Pikachu," she said confidently.

"That is a so-Miriam attitude," Ash muttered, but smiling anyway. Pikachu nodded her agreement. "Come on. Let's go to the Main Hall or whatever it's call." Still, as he walked, his eyes lingered on the tapestry, his fingers touching the fabric until the last second.

He should have been looking Forward, because suddenly a door swung open.

"Oh, gee, I'm _terribly_ sorry," a female voice giggled. Suddenly a familiar head of bushy purple hair appeared over Ash's head. "I think your nose is leaking."

Ash pushed him up, pinching his nose to try and stop the bleeding. "I hadn't noticed," he muttered. "You all right, Pikachu?"

Pikachu shook her head wildly to get rid of the headache, then smiled reassuringly. "Pi."

"Need a hand?" she asked, twirling an amethyst-beaded necklace through her slender fingers.

He looked back to her. "Ah, sure." He held out his hand, then waiting for her hand to grip his. It didn't come. Instead, she clapped. "Oh, very funny."

"Thank you." She smiled, watching himself push himself up. "Your nose is still leaking, you know?"

Ash glared at her. Suddenly he didn't like her presence as much as he had previously, albeit he hadn't quite warmly welcomed it before. "Thank you . . ." He trailed off, remembering that he didn't know her name.

She smiled, blinking at him with her wide violet eyes.

"Um, my name's Ash."

"I know," she smiled.

He rolled his eyes and struggled for patience. "And what's your name?"

She nodded with a happy grin on her face, thick lips parting to show perfect white teeth.

"You want that. _Gus_ said you would. My name is, let's see, Irus. Like the flower, I think, but spelled differently. My name only had one 'i' in it."

Ash looked at her like she was crazy, which she obviously was. "Okay." Carefully he looked down at his hand, and waited to see if his nose was still bleeding. It wasn't. "Do you have someplace I could wash up, Irus?" He indicated his hand and face.

"No."

"No . . . bathrooms or anything?"

She opened her mouth to say something, then thought better of it. "No."

"Are you sure?"

Irus grinned impishly. "No." When, whipping her hair, she said, "Come on, Ash. You don't want to be late, do you? The sun sets within the next twenty minutes. Then the witching hours start."

"Isn't it _be_-witching?" Ash asked, following her. She moved rapidly, dark mulberry robes flying out like wings around her. _She's probably a witch,_ Ash thought sarcastically. He shuddered, thinking he preferred the Halloween variety.

"Does it really matter, Ash?" Irus asked, walking backwards so she could face him. "Hello, Pikachu. How are you?"

Pikachu didn't answer, eyeing Irus with a curious air. There was something about this girl that rubbed her fur the wrong way. That large man was the same, except to a lesser extent. Besides, it was rare to met someone who was even less there than Ash was.

Irus laughed, suddenly doing a series of back flips down the corridor. "Those certainly do wake you up!" she smiled, looking at Ash and Pikachu's shocked expression.

"That . . . that was pretty good," he stuttered, understating and knowing it. Man, it'd be cool to be able to do that!

She shrugged, twirling. "I never did it before."

"_Really_?"

Irus didn't respond, brushing out the wrinkles in her robe.

"Are you a Trainer at Pooka?" Ash tried, fishing for some sort of conversation.

She paused in her actions. "A . . . Trainer?"

"You know, you help control what happens here, battle or whatever you do against other Trainers that want to win Pooka?"

"Pooka hasn't battled with other Pokémon since the Fall," she stated with a smile.

"The 'Fall'?"

Irus put on that face and stance, rocking on her heels, which meant the person is reciting something they consider an absolute waste of using the words and effort needed to say them. Ash remembered it from school. "They said Pooka drove people and Pokémon crazy when competition was run the old way, so it was decided that the Pokémon would be spared that madness." Ash looked at her. She had that face that said she really didn't understand what or why something had happened, so only spoke the parts as she understood them and made the rest of the blanks up. "Anyway, they thought of a new system. Many of the Trainers here left because they did not like the new way, for it was, in their opinion, a not very good test. Of course, many trainers did accept under the new standards, which is why it is still used."

Irus sighed, giving a small smile. "The Trainers died a long time ago, of course." She grinned. "I, myself, wasn't here to see the origins, having just arrived a few years over a mere decade ago, like the others, but um . . . Gus could give you a very long and _boring_ history of Pooka. He knows everything." She raised her pert nose. "He's not like the rest of us, either."

"Pardon?" Ash asked carefully.

"Pooka is only run because he feels devoted to it, to the Trainers. The rest of us could care less. It's not very fun. Hardly anyone ever comes here anymore. And he says we can't play tricks or tease them until _after_ they Test, but they leave so quickly! If they leave at all. And he's prepared to wait _another_ Eternity to see that the old Trainers can have their League run properly, and rest decently. He believes that _crap_!"

Ash looked at Irus. She had spoken so seriously during this detailing of Pooka. "And what's wrong with that?"

"Everything! He's no fun, and he puts a downer on everyone else's fun. I wish I had gone to get those girls out in the woods. At least I'd be having some fun!" She rubbed her hands and closed her eyes as if dreaming up the mischief she would have caused.

Both Ash and Pikachu perked their ears up. "You mean Sh—"

"And look at me!" She indicated her body. "This appearance is disgusting, ya know. So . . . unremarkable!" She pulled on the robe. "How could they want to look like this—_willingly_?! How can he stand it! Isn't it uncomfortable?"

"I think the robes are comfortable," Ash said, putting in his two cents. Pikachu nodded. The fabric was very soft and warm, and her fur didn't cling to it.

"You would," Irus snapped. "I like being _au natural._"

Ash stared mutely at her, trying to picture being _au natural_ outside (or in the building, for that matter) in the dead of Winter. " . . . "

"Got a problem with that?" she snapped, poking his chest hard.

He shook head wildly. "Nope, nope. You do whatever you want."

"I would, except Gus says no." She frowned. "You know what kind of risk he's taking running this forgotten League?"

"No?"

"Just think if the world found out his . . . our secret, or just one power-hungry Trainer? Image what would happen!"

Ash couldn't see what would happen, except that Pooka would get more Trainers to come here.

"We'd be . . ." She shuddered unable to continue into this area. "Our lives would be ruined, getting ordered around by some idiot. If I wanted that, I'd get married!" She grinned suddenly at her joke, then returned back to being serious. "Trainers are users."

Pikachu glared at Irus. "Chu!"

"Not all of us," Ash put in, hurt at the accusation. Pikachu patted him comfortingly.

"Yeah right," Irus spat. "You _use_ your Pokémon to win Leagues."

"I don't force them to battle if they don't want to! They're my friends."

She crossed her arms over her chest and looked at him. "Fine, _you're_ not as bad as others. But I wouldn't want you for a Trainer, or anyone. That's _Slavery_. Forcing Pokémon to battle against each other, confining them in little balls when they're bad."

"I never do that! I take care of my Pokémon! All right, so some Trainers are like that, but the majority of us aren't! You're being prejudiced!"

"And you're being naïve! You're not a Pokémon! You don't know how it's like in a Pokéball!"

"Of course I . . . do," Ash said slowly, suddenly realizing that he did know what it was like in a Pokéball. The memory felt like a dream. Dark. Quiet. Lonely. Boring. The loss, the absence of Time. He shuddered. "Don't ask me how, but I know."

Pikachu looked at him, surprised. How could he know?

Irus glared at him, unbelieving. Then her face softened, looking at his robe. "You have been to Ratwa, yes. You would know, then." Her eyes went to Pikachu, who was even more confused at her sudden admission that Ash did know. "And obviously you don't force Pokémon in Pokéballs if they don't want to." Pikachu nodded. "But not all Trainers are like that! I can just image screaming in a Pokéball while the Trainer laughs at my fear, at his _Pokémon's_ fear."

Ash looked at her and saw that she was actually afraid. She felt for the Pokémon. She was a good Trainer for that fact, even if she never won a battle in her life. "Is that why you don't battle with Pokémon, Irus?" he asked softly.

"I won't battle against another!" she said vehemently. "It's one to play harmless tricks for a laugh. It's another to fight and hurt for Pride, or lack of! That's just disgusting."

"In that light, it would be," Ash agreed, picking Pikachu up. "But some Pokémon like to battle. The point is to understand Pokémon and do your best to do what's right for them. I won't send Pikachu against something she's terrified of, or if she could get hurt. Trainers have to know when to start, and when to quit." He struggled sadly, giving Pikachu a hug. "I guess some Trainers forget that the Pokémon are actually alive and _can_ get hurt, they're so worked up in winning. But that's no excuse, really."

Irus tilted her head, twirling her beads through her fingers again. "Well, if I _ever_ got a Trainer, I hope she or he would be like you, Ash. And I hope you do find out what you want in your life." She rolled her eyes and grinned sardonically. "It can't actually be to be the Greatest Pokémon Master."

"But it is."

"Please," she laughed, starting to walk down the corridor again. "That's the silliest thing I've ever heard."

"Why!" he demanded, running to catch up to her.

"Because _you_ _**can't**_ be the Greatest!"

"I could to!" he snapped back.

Irus laughed, shoving him so hard he ran against the wall. She didn't notice, still walking.

"No, you can't. You just spewed out probably the most Romantic ideals of Pokémon Training, and you're telling me you can be the Greatest Master." She laughed.

"And why couldn't I?" Ash demanded, rubbing his sore arm.

She paused, looking at him curiously, seeing his anger. "Answer me this, then, and I'll tell you. When will you be a Master?"

"I don't know. It's gonna take a long time."

"No, Stupid. After what event? After you defeat every League, after everyone accepts you as being great, after whatever it is you're waiting for?"

Ash didn't know. He had always thought you were a Master when you felt that you were. Of course, there was that test you had to take to actually get the title of Master . . . "After that test?" he hazarded.

"You don't even know how to be a Master!" Irus laughed, tossing her hair again. "Listen, _Trainer_, you can never be a Master of Pokémon, not truly. That's like trying to understand the workings of the Universe to the last lepton and hadron. It's like being able to comprehend the workings and reasons of being Alive! You can't do that! Pokémon Mastery is too vast a subject. You can be a Master in Battling, in Training, in Breeding, in Science and Health, in Origins, in whatever fields that are left, but you can't be a Master in **Pokémon**! It's impossible."

Her face had lit up, and her hands gestured and accented her words. "How can you possibly, _possibly_ be a Master in something that deals with every _fiber_ of Life? Pokémon aren't just a hobby! If there's one thing, _one thing_ that all these Leagues are right on, that Gus is right on, is that Pokémon are Life. You can't Master Life. You can only live it! And even then, only a small, tantalizing piece, one that makes you long for more. And you struggle for the flavor for the rest of your life until Endallah comes. And, if your Religion permits it, you start over your life when Livonah rings already addicted to the spice of Pokémon!"

Irus shook her head and smiled at him. "Ash, you can't truly be the Greatest in that sense. You can only be the Greatest to yourself, and even then not that, because you're always learning something different. With each whatever-it-is a Trainer does, you learn and become even _greater_. You'll die never achieving greatest for yourself. Other's will see you as great, but you truly won't be, because you didn't learn everything. You'd have to live forever, which you can't do. And you don't want to! Nothing else lives forever, and you'd always be alone in the end. I don't know how long a Ghost Pokémon can survive, but I know they're not the best company for everyone, even each other. You'd lose Pikachu, watch all your friends and Pokémon die. Why do you think Ghost Pokémon are so difficult to catch and are so mischievous? They don't _want_ to make friends that they'll lose after those short few years, and who they can't abandon in this time of need and because of friendship. Ghost Pokémon don't forget. But they also don't want to be alone, so most are stuck between a rock and a hard place. And they don't want Trainers to take life so seriously, because they're only on Earth for a few short and precious years." She shook her head sadly.

Ash was silent, remembering the few Ghost Pokémon he had met. "Some Ghost Pokémon try to keep legends alive, or protect their Trainer's memory, or just goof," he muttered. He never thought there had been more than just loyalty on their part, or character.

"Humans forget so rapidly. They remember glorious wars that never were, words that were never spoken, people that never existed," Irus sighed. "Ash, don't cling to the illusions you give to yourself, but don't give up your dreams. Just understand that there are dreams, and then there's dreams. Ya know."

"Gus said I couldn't be a Master, too," he said quietly. Pikachu looked at Ash, having never hard that there had been another talk like this. "He sounded like it sort of consumes you. I guess Pokémon training can be like a drug."

"Or a power-trip," she smiled. "Let becoming a Master be a goal now, but not for the rest of your life. You'll end up alone otherwise. And being alone is terrible. That's why there's always the Ghostly Trio, and, in some cases, a Quartet. And don't ever give up on something, even if you made the worst mistake in your life. Life will go on, forever."

Ash grinned. "You know, when you're not goofing, you're quite the philosopher, Irus."

"Pi."

She whirled around and slapped her hands across both their mouths playfully. "Shhhh, just don't _tell_ everyone. Jeez, I'll lose my reputation that I worked on for so long. But some things I just can't goof on."

"We won't," he grinned. Pikachu nodded.

Irus backed up, shaking her head and smiling hopelessly. "Don't ask me why, but I like you, Ash. I do."

"I kinda got that impression when I woke up with you," he said tentatively. Pikachu almost fell off his shoulder from surprise.

"Ka?"

She looked confused, then laughed. "Oh, that. That was just as experiment to see how you'd react. A bit different than other Trainers, I must say. I like to see how people react under different circumstances."

"Why?"

Shrugging, Irus stated, "It's . . . something that interests me. I don't know why, Ash. Come on. Let's get you to the contest or whatever it is. We've spent enough time gabbing."

Ash nodded and smiled. "Right."

They walked in silence for a few turns of the corridor, until finally reaching the Great Doors. Then Irus looked at him. "I won't go any further, Ash, but I wish _you_ luck." Then she removed Pikachu from his shoulder. Pikachu looked at her indignant. "Sorry, little mouse, but this test is for him only, should he decide to take it. Not for the Pokémon. There is no audience allowed, save the givers."

"Ka," Pikachu whined.

Ash smiled. "Don't worry Pikachu. I'll be all right, even if I lose. I can always try again in the future. You know me, stubborn idiot and stuff."

Pikachu smiled at him, then crossed her fingers. "Pi, Pikapi!"

"Thanks. I'll need all the luck I can get, I think."

"Yes. Good luck, Ash." Irus bit her lip in thought. "You can win this test, okay?"

"You can win against everything."

"No, not everything," Irus countered, stepping closer to him to meet his eyes. She wasn't smiling anymore. "Not everything." Then, ever so lightly, she kissed him again, but pulled away before Ash could react on some absurd instinct to kiss back. "Good luck." And she turned and walked swiftly down the hall. Pikachu looked longingly over her shoulder.

"Um, thanks," he whispered, watching them retreat. Then he took a deep breath and looked at the doors, trying to summon the courage to open them . . .

. . and enter Pooka Competition.

"Just do your best," he whispered to himself, then cracked the door open, sticking his head in. If this was a movie, there would have been that low fog on the ground, but this wasn't a movie. It was just a giant room that was empty, and he slipped in slowly, closing the door as quietly as possible. It still made an ominous _boom_.

"Hello?" he called as loudly as he dared. Loud enough to be heard, but not so loud that it disturbed the air of the room.

No one answered, and Ash carefully started to walk into the center of the room, looking around. There was a skylight for the domed roof, and he could see the sky slowly starting to darken. He gulped and licked his dry licks nervously, surprising himself by still tasting blood. He looked at his hand and saw the traces of brown-red liquid. ***, he must look like a mess. He had forgotten, for Irus hadn't acted any differently from his appearance.

He wiped his hand to try to get the dried pieces to flank off, not wanting to wipe his hand against the robe. Silly, because around the neck and front of the chest were already drops of his blood, but Ash just didn't want to ruin the robe. The room was large, he wasn't sure of the shape, and the tiny tiles on the floor were set in a spiraling circle outwards. Pillars were structured close to the wall, and between two a door. There were six doors in all, including the one he had entered through. They were all giant, ten feet tall, and on this side he could see faint intricate patterns. What, he wasn't sure, for the light was beginning to dim.

Wringing his hands nervously, Ash called again, "Hello? Gus? Anyone?"

Funny how nervous he was, Ash thought dimly, standing in place and turning slowly. Rarely was he this nervous before a battle before, but those times he had inkling of what to expect. This League . . . he wasn't sure. Maybe it was because he couldn't remember Ratwa clearly, and he was worried because of it. He didn't really know how these Leagues ran. But even still, Ash thought he shouldn't feel this nervous.

It was probably just League. It was kind of creepy when he thought about it, in this empty stone-cold building with its scratchy bare branches outside. He shivered because of a sudden chill, sniffing a bit. (That soup Gus had given him had done wonders for his cold, but now it seemed to be edging its way back.) The Trainers here were different too. At first glance they were friendly, but then something changed them. And then there was this air they held. It almost put his teeth on edge, almost.

"H-Hello!" he stuttered again, louder. He shrank a bit when his voice echoed against the walls. The acoustics weren't very good in this room. "Is anyone here? I—I'd like to battle, please!"

_I'd like to battle, please_. ***, he never said that before, at least so tentatively. Normally he had just gone up to the Trainer and _demanded_ the battle. Ash grinned a bit. _Don't tell me I'm getting polite_.

No, it probably was just that Gus had chewed him out a few hours prior for being such a poor Trainer. It was just the aftereffects of the words on his mind. It was nice thought, though, Ash smiled.

"Hello?"

"So you want to attempt Pooka?" quietly asked a voice behind his ear. Ash whirled as saw Gus standing there, a Pokéball held in his hand. The Pokéball wasn't like a normal Pokéball—red and white—nor one of the varieties of an apricorn Pokéball. It was like an incandescent dark color, he couldn't tell which, top and bottom. Ash could only tell it was a Pokéball by the release trigger.

"Yes."

Gus looked at him purposefully. "Have you asked whomever it is you have to?"

Ash opened his mouth, remembering that the large man had said they couldn't refuse him the battle, but then closed it. Gus must want something else. Who would have had to ask to battle here, if he had to ask permission? But he didn't have to ask permission. He just had to want to battle . . .

"I've decided I want to battle here," Ash said firmly.

Gus _almost_ smiled, which was almost worse than when he didn't smile, somehow. "So you've asked yourself permission. Good. You must be willing to be aware of what you are getting yourself into, and that you're responsible." He threw the Pokéball up in the air, then caught it.

_What kind of Pokémon's in the Pokéball_? Ash wondered, but didn't ask. Gus seemingly heard the question.

"Inside this Pokéball is the most feared thing of all." He held in on the tips of his fingers next to his cheek. "Do you know what it is, Ash?"

"No," Ash admitted.

"What are you afraid of, Ash?" Gus asked quietly.

He shrugged. "I don't know. A lot of things, I guess, but I don't really know."

"Why not?"

"I just never thought about it." Ash paused. "That's bad, right?"

"A Trainer should know what he's afraid of, and what his Pokémon are afraid of." Gus studied Ash. "Why are you training, Ash? Why are you training this way?"

"This way?"

Gus locked eyes with Ash. "You know of one thing you're afraid of. That's why you're training here. Why else would you train with such dedication?"

"How does that have to do with what I'm afraid of?" Ash asked harshly.

The Trainer didn't answer. Instead he held the ball out. "What is in this ball?"

"Is that the test, to figure it out without opening it? To guess?"

"No, of course not. _That_ would be a waste of my immeasurable time." Gus smiled, bringing the ball back. Then he turned and set it on a small pillar-like table. Ash blinked.

"Where'd that table come from?" he asked Gus. "I mean, it wasn't here when I came in. Was it?"

"I wouldn't know. It always was in here for me." Gus looked down at Ash. "I will teleport out of here, and then the test will begin."

"What do I do?"

"Well, you can do nothing and not take the test, or you can open the Pokéball."

"And then what?"

Gus smiled. "I never saw."

"You never saw your own test?" Ash asked incredulously.

He chuckled lightly, looking past Ash. "This was never my test. My test happened years ago. I faced my fear, the greatest fear you can ever face, in my opinion. I still face it, everyday."

It would have been rude to ask what Gus what he was afraid of, so Ash didn't. But he was curious. What would Gus be afraid of? Ash couldn't imagine what. He didn't look like he'd fear anything. Maybe hate everything, but not fear it. Of course, sometimes if you hate something you fear it as well.

"I'll be back when the bell tolls."

Ash titled his head carefully, studying the dark Pokéball. "Do you have any idea of what I have to do, Gus? Or am I supposed to walk in blind and figure it out myself?"

Gus grinned slightly, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "I suppose maybe once you open the Pokéball and release whatever is in there—if anything—maybe you simply have to get it to return to the state which you found the Pokéball. By first toll." And suddenly he disappeared. He must have had a Pokémon on him.

Ash looked at the Pokéball, carefully picking up the ball and rolling it in his hands. The most feared Pokémon was in this ball? What was it? Ash smiled, imagining that it was Barney or something similar. He'd run screaming from the room like the next sane person.

_No, be serious_, he chided himself.

What would he have to do once the Pokémon was free? Ash frowned. What could he do? How could he battle it?

Sighing, he looked at the ball closely, inspecting it for any writings on the cover that could allude to what was inside. There weren't any, the cover as smooth as possible.

Ash looked up through the skylight. It was dark, and it didn't matter what would happen. The test wouldn't be dangerous, no matter what the Trainers hinted at, because that was against proceedings for _every_ League. (At least, every League he had gone to, Ash amended.) He bit his lip nervously, holding the Pokéball closely.

He took a deep breath, then held the ball so his index finger could click the button to release the Pokémon. He didn't bother calling its release or doing the pose and throwing it, as it was a little "childish." Miriam had laughed her rear off when he had done it the first time, then proceeded to go on about men and their "idiotic macho appearances".

The ball opened, and nothing happened. Ash blinked, looking around for the Pokémon that should have been released. There was none. There hadn't even been the usual red energy dispersed. With a perplexed look on his face, he turned over the empty ball, looking inside at the mechanics. There was a flicker of light, and he touched it with his finger, suddenly extinguishing the energy. Had it always been empty?

"What kind of test is this?" Ash muttered, looking at the orb critically while he snapped it shut.

The most feared Pokémon . . . was Nothing?

No, Gus never said there was a Pokémon in the ball, Ash thought slowly, stuffing the ball in his left pocket. He just said that it held the most feared thing. Ash had just assumed it was a Pokémon. Miriam always said never to assume, because it made an "'***' out of 'u' and 'me'".

He sighed, stuffing his hand in the pocket and twirling the miniature Pokéball in his fingers. There had to be something more than this, just to open a Pokéball holding an unknown Pokémon, didn't there?

Suddenly he heard an impatient tapping behind him. (Gee, everything came from _behind_ him, ya notice?)

_O-okay, so there was more_. Slowly Ash turned, preparing to face the Pokémon. And then he gasped when he saw what was in front of him.

****

Ash covered his ears and shrank into the wall, desperately trying to block out the accusations, but the cries still found home in his ears, his mind, his conscience.

"Please," he whimpered, his bottom lip bleeding from a punch that had been thrown. "Stop it."

The figures paid him no heed, still screaming. There were more now, and Ash didn't know where they could have come from. He couldn't even see the Grand Whatever-Room anymore, the surroundings swimming in the darkness of the mind. Even the . . . the _things_ screaming at him were barely seen physically by him, but they hung heavily in the front of his mind. Ash didn't have to have his eyes open to see them. Even with his eyes closed, it was like they actually were open. He could see them! He could have been blind and he'd have seen them, deaf and he could have heard them . . .

A very, very small and quiet part of Ash told him that this meant they weren't real, that they couldn't be real. They had to be a Pokémon, a strong Psychic type. This was just part of the test, that he had to face his fears, conquer them or something.

It was one thing to face your fears. It's another to actually **Face** your fears.

But how could he face these fears?

"You're not real!" he wanted to shout, but what good was that? He had to believe it, along with the apparitions. In both areas the truth would have a hard time sinking in. Oh, Ash knew they weren't real, at least part of him did, but how can you face a perfect copy—sight, smell, voice, stance, actions, flaws all exact—of everyone you had ever known and say that they weren't real.

Ash shuddered in his tight ball, still trying to block out the cries they screamed incessantly. They were half-truths, which made them all the worse. Any lie that has basis in Truth is ever the blackest of lies, as someone was said. Suddenly he saw the movement and pushed himself away as the attack smashed the wall into bits. These weren't friendly fears he faced. They fought, fought hard to dictate his actions, wounding him physically and mentally, making him unable to fight back. These were those kind of fears. Ash wasn't afraid of the dark, well, not dark as in absence of light. But this was truly Dark that ran at him, although extremely tiny.

It was Endallah—Death. Ash was too young to be afraid of dying, too young to be decently afraid of things that were dangerous. He was still at the age when "It won't happen to me" or "You worry too much" sayings were in his head and out of his mouth. Even in this line of work, in Pokémon training, Ash didn't fear Death or Danger like older and more experienced Trainers did. That fear usually took hold around twenty-five, should one last that long in _serious_ Pokémon training, not as in Gym Leaders or such. As in Trainers who went out every day of their lives and swam with Tentacruel, gathered Electrodes, were around dangerous, wild Pokémon that hated Trainers with their whole beings. That was Training. Yet Ash knew he could die, so he did fear it, minutely.

It may seem funny, but Ash was afraid of Pokémon. Not of how he feared Pyro, but the respective fear all Trainers have, or should have, in his opinion. Ash was perfectly aware that _any_ Pokémon, should it really, _really_ want to, could kill him easily. Humans were comically weak in comparison. That's why rogue Pokémon were so dangerous, why this hemisphere of the world feared them so much. (_It was so much easier to fear them than to understand them_, Ash thought sarcastically.) If any Pokémon of his ever wanted to, they could take off and leave. Ash couldn't really _do_ anything expect "order" them to stay. No amount of Training could ever earn the Pokémon's respect for the Trainer if the Pokémon didn't want to give it out. The Pokémon had to want to stay, to battle, to train, to listen, to be friends. Some Trainers never understood that, which is why they didn't get that far. It seriously brought their castles in the air crashing down with lightening speed, hence leveling the playing field, when they found out the Pokémon had more power than the Trainer ever would have. Yet this wasn't Ash's major fear. Maybe one of the minor ones that the big ones kicked around, but nothing he lost much sleep on.

Yet one of his greater fears did involve Pokémon, his Pokémon, the very mirror of the ones that dived at him now, and he tried to avoid. That they'd leave him because he wasn't good enough, that they'd join some other _better_ Trainer (Gary), that they'd died because of some accident or negligence on his part. A monstrous copy of Pikachu was screaming at him that he was a lousy Trainer and that she hated him, that they all did, that it was his fault they all died. Sometimes he did worry Pikachu would do that, both awake and asleep, when he made an order of attack. Was this the best way? Would she turn on him and attack him?

Pokémon Rights Activists had strong grounds under this, and it was their sole purpose of existence to destroy every League around. You never saw it on TV, but at every League Game they were there with their signs and slogans, picketing up and down, up and down, up and down. And, Ash admitted, they had a good cause, just not a good basis. Pokémon were not being exploited, used, or placed in endangering situations, at least not deathly ones. P.R.A.Y.—Pokémon Rights Are Yearned—members didn't understand that Trainers (well, the majority of them) take every precaution to make sure the situations they placed their Pokémon in weren't outrageously dangerous. They wanted _all_ Pokémon returned to the wild, "It's where they long to belong;" Pokémon Leagues disbanded, "Forcing the Fight is not right;" and Trainers jails or fined, "Overlords they are, and they've gone too far!" (Yes, the slogans were very, _very_ lame.) You couldn't study Pokémon, own Pokémon, breed Pokémon, nurse Pokémon, nothing under their rules because it wasn't natural. The only way they would win would be if some terrible Pokémon-related catastrophe happened, like if Pokémon ran amok or killed the President or something like that took place Most of members were harmless. A Trainer just had to worry about getting beamed by one of their signs or the "stray" tomato that suddenly sprouted wings; the members were harmless. Most of them . . .

_"Hey, what are you doing!? Stop that!"_

_"So, Ash, you'll learn what you do is wrong."_

_"What are you talk—Hey, what is that! Get away! GET AWAY! OW!"_

_"You must understand, the Leagues must be destroyed."_

_"W-w-what?!"_

That's why Ash was afraid of them. They were something that could stop the Leagues from being run, keep Trainers from raising Pokémon. Of course, that would never happen, Ash knew it, so he wasn't afraid of _that_. He was afraid of the methods some of them used. Ash could dimly remember a few years back with Brock and Misty, meeting the first P.R.A.Y extremists. He couldn't forget their names, ever—Dick and Jane. Two extremely normal names for two extremely extreme extremists. You'd never peg either for that kind of hobby, Jane with her brown eyes and brown ponytail, and Dick with his short blond hair and blue eyes. They looked like stamp collectors.

_"What is that stuff!"_

_"It'll level the playing field for you Ash."_

_"What playing field?"_

_"Don't play ignorant. You will finally understand how Pokémon are truly treated!"_

_"What are you talking about! And what have you done with Pikachu, you . . . thieves!"_

_"She is now free from under your dictatorship."_

_"I never had dictatorship over her! I don't even know what that word means!"_

He shuddered under the mockery of their image, remembering their methods to show Trainers—him—the Truth: "freeing" Pikachu from his ownership, using methods they believed to show how Pokémon were treated, forcing the other "deluded" Pokémon to watch and see what Trainers put them through, so they could really understand. It hurt, a lot, so much that his friends and Officer Jenny could hear his screams across town. The pain in his side, legs, and arms suddenly returned anew. Ash thought the implants had dissolved long ago. Dick and Jane had gotten away before the police had arrived, once his Pokémon forced themselves through the door and turned on the two. Ash'd had to spend a week in the hospital, most of the time in a coma.

The fears dived one at a time, most of the time managing to damage him in so way, shape, or form. Yet as Ash attempted to block attacks from his friends—Misty's mallet looked so much bigger, and so was her mouth, and the words were even sharper—another copy attacked. He was outnumbered greatly, and the Pikachu copy bit his ankle just as Ash punched himself.

Everyone is afraid of themselves, of what they could be. Ash was no different, struggling to fight the Trainer he never wanted to become, the one that P.R.A.Y. members struggled to destroy. The boy who would stop at _nothing_ to win, who'd hurt everyone. Ash knew he was already closer to that Ash than he wanted. Suddenly another Ash appeared alongside the other, the beaten and destroyed one, the one who never got anywhere in the world because he was useless, not needed, alone, without Pokémon, family, or friends. Ash shuddered. He never wanted to be alone in the world, never. The two nodded at each other, conspiring something. Ash—the real Ash—couldn't decide which he feared more: Ash the Ruthless, or Ash the Failure.

Ash collapsed to his knees from the dual punch. It seemed the stronger the fear, the greater the attack and the more helpless he was against them. These two were great fears that Ash never admitted to having until now, and it made them stronger. What was even worse was that Ash felt himself losing the ground. These things weren't real, they weren't, but they suddenly seemed very real as someone gripped his hair, bringing back his head to allow another's foot connected with his face perfectly.

But why was he fighting all these minor fears? They really were minor compared to his real fear, and he knew what it was. As if answering his mental worry, the others drew back so others could come forward. He stared looked up at the figure near the back, the one that towered over the others. That must mean it was his greatest fear. He didn't need to see the face to recognize it . . . them.

"Kill him," one shrugged indifferently, talking on a cell phone. It gave the effect of being kicked in the stomach to Ash.

The other voice was even colder. "Never loved him anyway. Just a worthless piece of crap. Waste of my time."

"Everyone's," the other corrected bitterly. "He's none of mine."

Ash clutched his ears and sobbed. "Don't say that . . .!"

Suddenly one delivered a kick right to his face that sent him flying. "Shut up, you stupid, spoiled brat! I hate you! I hate you, Ash Satoshi Ketchum! We both do! Just die!"

He hit the wall hard and crumbled, only able to curl into a ball. His bleeding lip trembled. "No . . ."

They both spoke the words in the same sinister cold whisper. "Die."

****

Ash could only cower under the attacks now. He was gone, lost.

Suddenly two enormous green eyes blinked in his damaged view. "Gi gip?" GipSi tilted her head curiously, studying the fallen boy, oblivious to the attacks around her that still pounded the child. His fall and crying had awoken her from her slumber, although by all rights she would have woken up now anyway. She nosed closer. "See?"

He closed his eyes and cried harder.

GipSi sat back on her hunches, puzzled. She looked around the room and saw nothing that caused her alarm, aside from the damaged condition of the boy, and she chittered quizzically. Her huge eyes blinked.

"See gip? GipSi?"

He flinched like he had been kicked.

She frowned, worried. This boy _had_ saved her life, and she felt indebted to him. Nothing should harm a boy that nice. She scampered forward and touched a cut the scraped his forehead. GipSi blinked in surprise and yanked her paw back to stare at the sticky red substance. She had never seen blood before, not human blood. Interested, she gave it an experimental lick.

"Gip!" she gagged and shook wildly to remove the taste from her mouth. She ran her paws against the side of her, ignoring the fact that it only spread the blood further along her face. That taste—_yeww_! She did the as close to the Human equivalent to shuddering her shoulders. No wonder the blood stayed on the inside.

Still undergoing the foul taste on her tongue, GipSi edged closer again to Ash. He was still shaking and murmuring something she didn't understand. She touched his cheek gently, but avoided the blood.

"Gip?" He shrank from something. It wasn't her, GipSi could tell, and she twitched her tail. _Poor boy_, she thought. _Me help_. (How, GipSi wasn't exactly sure, but it's the thought that counts.) And slowly, touching his forehead, she allowed her eyes to glow bright.

Ash gasped deeply, suddenly in shock.

****

The images went through his brain at stomach turning speed.

He was flying, no falling, but laughing as the while. He wasn't afraid. He didn't know how and he didn't have to be. There was no reason to be, because he couldn't get hurt.

"_Careful_!" someone yelped, but laughed as well.

"_Fly like a Pidgeot, Ash_!"

"_And you said you'd never remember Pokémon_!_ Give him here before you drop him!_"

"_I wouldn't drop him! Come on, Ash! Fly! We'll always catch you!_"

Something else ran by. "_Did my little Pumpkin fall and get a boo-boo? Let Mommy kiss it all better. There, too? And there? My, a lot of little boo-boos, huh?_"

They shifted, faster and faster. "_Ash, you may be stupid, hot-head, idiotic, dense—_"

"_Hey!_"

"_But you're a good Trainer._"

"_Oh. Thanks._"

"_Pikapi! Pikachu pika pikachu pika!_"

"_You've gotten better Ash, I'll admit that. Just how much, we'll have to battle and decide_."

"_Good match, Ash._"

"_Ash, just call if you need to, all right? We care about you, even Gary. We'll always be here._"

They swirled like soup, a thick broth of memories. But how and why?

"GIP!"

Ash jerked his eyes open and sat up with a start, forgetting about the pain. GipSi jumped back in surprise, then started to scold him in her rapid speech that he had no chance of understanding. The apparitions were still around, still attacking.

He looked up at them. The memories were suddenly leaving him, and he shrank back into his ball. Why?

GipSi looked at Ash, then leaped over to him to sit at his feet. Why was he afraid? She turned to look at the space behind her. What was there to be afraid of? "Gippy gip seesee?"

"Get them away!"

"See gip? Ip see gip, see ip see."

"What?" Ash raised his head to look at the fluff ball. Why couldn't she just go away? He was having a major crisis here . . .and doing nothing about it . . .

"SEE GIP!" she scolded, waving her paw—it seemed to him—at the creatures behind her.

Ash touched his tender lip, watching the little Pokémon fume at him for no apparent reason. With his mind fixed on her, the monsters around him suddenly took the back seat. Why were her eyes glowing?

Suddenly something yanked Ash up by the collar and off the floor several feet, and Ash found himself cowering in the presence of Killer Ash. The eyes were mad. "Wouldn't you like to be like me?" the thing whispered.

_No, no I don't!_ his mind screamed. _I won't!_

"Hmm? You will be, you know."

"No," Ash whimpered.

The mockery smiled. "I killed Pikachu first," it whispered happily. "Bare hands. She just didn't want to listen."

He was going to kill Pikachu? No, no, no! Ash felt himself crying. He would never, _ever_ harm Pikachu! _Never!_ "No! I won't!"

"Yes, you will."

Ash looked at himself, narrowing his eyes. "I. Won't!" And he drew back his arm and punched the lie as hard as he could. Suddenly he collapsed to the ground heavily. The . . . the _lie_ was gone. Disappeared. Ash glared at the rest of them, at the other Ash. He was never going to be that! Never!

He dived.

****

Ash wiped his bloodied lip. If he couldn't actually destroy the fear, he'd force himself to understand that only he made them possible. He looked at the mockery of his parents, the only thing that was left. They floated quietly, insults gone. Their "son" was hurting them, like he always had. The satisfied smiles were on their faces. He fingered the Pokéball in his pocket.

This was different than facing the other fears, because these were his parents. You can't just punch them, deny their existence. Ash admitted that. This might actually be something to fear, but how truthful? He would never not love his parents. Could they really not love him? Ash doubted it. (And he prayed.)

But what was the point of letting it get this far, this strong of a hold? Ash gritted his teeth and gripped the Pokéball.

"You're not real," he said slowly.

"Aren't we?" the father mused dangerously.

"You're not. My parents won't stop loving me. Never."

His mother smiled sardonically, so unlike her. "Keep telling yourself that." She paused. "But yet I don't see you going home, Ash. You know it's true."

Ash took a deep breath. "If it is, so be it. I deserve it. But I won't believe it until I see it."

"That's why you won't go home. So you can believe the lie."

"Go home and face it. You'll find we're right."

"You're right?" Ash repeated. "Shouldn't it be that 'I'm right,' Father?" He shook his head, throwing back his arm. "Return!"

The red light from the Pokéball escaped, and the figures melted into one. And, as a parting word, the Pokémon asked softly, "What if you return too late?"

The ball clanged to the floor. Ash leaned up against the wall and slowly slid down. That hit a nerve, a terrible point. But no, if one thing he learned, unfound fears like that wouldn't control him. He closed his eyes, suddenly tired, and allowed himself to fall blissfully into sleep.

It wasn't dreamless.

The Pokéball rolled out of his hand . . .

****

The bell tolled so many long hours later . . .

Gus entered softly, listening to the quiet sounds of someone breathing. He stopped and picked up the dark orb, pocketed it, then continued to find the source of the breathing. Ash was against the wall, still in deep sleep. He tapped the boy gently with his toe.

Ash blinked his eyes. "Huh?"

"So you passed," Gus whispered, kneeling down and studying the boy. It had not been easy, it looked. The bruises and blood, even in his hair, were everywhere. The robe was ripped heavily.

"I did?" Gus nodded. "GipSi—"

"I know," he interrupted, watching as Ash winced, feeling for the lump in his pocket. "It doesn't matter."

"But there aren't supposed to be Pokémon. Just me," Ash got out slowly, looking at his hands. They were covered in blood, and he wondered if it was his, or something else's.

Gus looked at Ash, critiquing him. "There is no such rule."

"But Irus . . ."

"No rules." Gus paused, seeing Ash still unconvinced. "And what did GipSi do, Ash?"

He shrugged painfully. "I don't know."

"She didn't battle. She helped, true, but not to the extent of breaking a rule. GipSi didn't see what you saw, only that you needed help. She didn't help you win the battle. She just . . . helped you."

Ash blinked slowly at Gus. "What Pokémon was that?"

"That wasn't a Pokémon, Ash." Gus stood up, then held out a hand to help Ash up as well. He had to support the boy a bit, and carefully started to walk out of the room through another door.

"It wasn't?"

"No."

"But . . . but it went in a Pokéball," Ash countered softly. "If it wasn't a Pokémon, what was it?"

Gus didn't answer, and they walked in silence. They already entered a room. "Sit down, Ash."

Ash collapsed in a chair, watching Gus move around slowly. The Pokéball was placed on a stone shelf. The room was dark and felt like a tomb. _Did Gus spend all his time here?_

"Remove your robe," Gus ordered, walking back over.

Easier said than done, but Ash painfully got the robe over his head. Gus studied his wounds. "I thought Pokémon Leagues couldn't hurt Trainers," he murmured.

"But yet we can hurt Pokémon that battle?" Gus countered, and that silenced any argument from Ash. If Gus was going to play the eye-for-an-eye card, there was no way Ash could really win. "Hold still." And slowly his eyes started to glow purple. Ash watched, slightly amazed and the wounds closed up, leaving only trace scars from some of the large cuts.

"How?"

"Do you know why the GipSies call us the Keepers?" Gus asked, taking the robe. He reached in the pocket and withdrew a still sleeping GipSi.

"No," Ash admitted, watching spellbound as Gus petted the creature. "You're not going to hurt her?"

He looked up quickly, surprised, and saw Ash's worry. Gus gave him a reassuring smile, stroking the Pokémon's soft fur. She stretched out slightly but did not wake. "Of course not. I have no time or interest for the vendetta against them." He set her on a pillow. "She is very strong. Stronger than many GipSies."

"Really?"

Gus locked eyes with Ash. "Yes. That's why she's still alive. Gengar would have killed her if she wasn't. He does hate them with a passion." He didn't continue his explanation of why Gengar hated them, picking up Ash's robe.

"Did you know a GipSi doesn't learn _any_ of the psychic attacks they are known for until Level 120?" Ash shook his head. "So just image how high she is, Ash. Just _imagine_." Slowly the threads started to reweave themselves. "I find it hard to believe that she isn't the clan leader, but apparently the GipSies find no special favors for their strongest, but for members. She is more of the outsider, having join the clan recently after the last clan—her clan—was completely desecrated by Gengar."

"How are you doing that?" Ash asked, watching the magic of the fabrics weaving like a mass of Ekans.

"Why do you think the GipSies call us the Keepers?" Gus asked, folding the fabric over his arms.

Ash shrugged. "You run the League? Take care of it?"

Gus smiled. "Very good. I'm not a Pokémon Trainer, nor will I ever be qualified to be one. I lack in one very essential area."

Ash felt like he was missing something. "What?"

Suddenly Gus disappeared, revealing a Gastly in his place. "Most Leagues like the Trainers to be at least Human. Very Species-ist, if you ask me." Ash looked blankly at the Ghost.

"Y-y-you're a Ghost? Why are _you_ running Pooka?" _But Pokémon couldn't be Trainers . . . could they?_ Ash paused, thinking about the question. _Why not?_

Ghastly smiled at Ash's reaction, returning to his Human form. "All the 'Trainers' here are Ghosts. No Human had run the League for many centuries. My Trainer was the last to . . . die. I couldn't just leave and let all this die as well, so I stayed. I was the only one. The other Ghosts moved in a few years ago, but I am the one in charge. They accept that, for the most part. Although sometimes I must reconvince them of the fact. Painfully." He petted GipSi again.

Ash wondered how high of a Level Gus was at, and yet still hadn't evolved into a Haunter.

"But why?"

"Why what, Ash?" Gus asked lightly. "Why stay? I have to. I owe it to my Trainer. Gastly are very loyal Pokémon, to the right Trainer, of course."

Ash looked at Gus. "What about the . . . thing that's in the Pokéball? What is it?"

Gus turned to look at the quiet orb. "Fear."

"What?"

He looked back at Ash.

"You have heard of a soul, yes? What's in that Pokéball is a piece, more than a piece, for some, of all the Trainers that ran Pooka so many years ago. You fought them."

"How is that possible? Part of them?"

Sighing, Gus looked suddenly very old. "That isn't important," he said softly, closing his eyes as if to forgo the memory. He waved his hand. "You may leave now. Take the robe and GipSi, and walk straight out that door. You'll get there."

"Gus?" Ash looked at the Pokéball, then the Pokémon. "Did y—?" Gus opened his eyes and stopped the words dead in Ash's throat.

"Ash, I **am** a Pokémon. I obey my orders. I did nothing not commanded. I did not do that."

Ash looked at him, picking up his robe. "Does saying that really help?" he asked quietly. It didn't for him.

Gus' eyes darted between Ash and the Pokéball. "You know the answer. Go. Your friends will be here in a few hours."

He nodded, turned towards the door, but stopped just at the door. "Gus, thank you."

Gus merely closed his eyes and steepled his fingers, making it look like he was praying deeply. Ash hoped it wasn't for forgiveness, or to forgo the memory. The man . . . Pokémon sat in the position, not moving, and Ash slowly shut the door as softly as possible.

He leaned heavily against the door, eyes closed and breathing deeply. Whatever the Trainer had ordered, Ash hoped he never found out. He hoped that no other Gastly or Pokémon could ever repeat the ability, for the sake of the Pokémon. And any Trainer who ordered his Pokémon to do that should never had done that, leaving their Pokémon with that kind of guilt, the guilt of murder. That was worse that abandonment.

No . . . that was abandonment . . .

****

"I think you went a little too far, Miriam," Shamin said reproachfully.

"Ya can _never_ go to far dealin' with him," Miriam snapped.

"It didn't work, though."

"I _know_ that!"

Hunter grinned at them from the ground about twenty feet below, apparently enjoying the fact that his arm was broken. "Nice try! Good show!" Then he looked away. "We're almost there."

"About time," Miriam snarled from the log bridge.

The troupe walked, Hunter making one-sided conversation happily. Shamin kept glancing at his arm, the piece of bone sticking out. It made her sick.

"Batter up!" a girl yelled just as a large building loomed in their view.

"I wanna play!" Hunter yelled, running ahead, leaving his bag behind in the snow, arm suddenly healed.

Miriam and Shamin looked at each other, then followed quickly. They stopped when they reached the fight. (Miriam stopped because Hunter threw a snowball in her face.)

"Shan!" Shamin yelled, seeing the boy just walking out the door. Pikachu was just in front of him.

"Hey," he smiled waving, stepping down the steps. His pack was already loaded, and he was in his normal clothes.

Miriam stormed over, reaching into her pack. Ash looked at her a little fearfully. "Here," she grunted.

"Put this on. Ya'll catch yar death otherwise."

Ash looked at the hat in her gloved hand. "Um . . . Thanks." He put it on carefully, making sure his face was perfectly blank and biting his tongue to keep any remarks about the cap from escaping.

"Ya too, Rodent," Miriam snapped, tossing down the socks. Pikachu looked at the Pokka-dotted fabric critically, but, under Miriam's glare, put them on her ears and proceeded to ignore Pyro's laughter.

"Look, guys, I'm sorry," Ash started.

"No, we're sorry," Shamin countered.

"It was my fault."

"Ours."

Miriam looked at the two as they continued this way for some time. "Shut up. All right, _shut up_! We all were stupid. Forget it."

Ash took a step back. "What's wrong with her?"

"Hunter," Shamin sighed, pointing to the man. "He's very . . . annoying."

"Oh."

"Excuse me?" Ash turned to see Gus standing up at the doors, holding a piece of cloth.

"You may have this."

Ash walked up the stairs carefully and unfolded the cloth. It was like the tapestries he had seen in the hall, except with him. And now he could see the swirls, what they were. He quickly folded it up.

"Thanks, Gus."

Gus smiled. "Ash, why don't you get a room for the Winter, some nice jobs?" He nodded towards the girls. "The world does not revolve around you. It revolves around something much more important."

"Yes." He nodded. "Good idea."

"When it is warmer, you can go to Ossature. It is a very simple League to enter. Under the right guidance, very moving. Of course, it hasn't been guidanced well enough since Josh Thomas stopped his personal dealings."

"How do I get there?"

"I'll teleport you to a town." Gus smiled, seeing Ash's less-than amused face at his response.

"Ossature is several weeks travel from anywhere around here, hidden in old caverns, both natural and man- and Pokémon-made. I went there . . . years ago, with my Trainer." Gus' voice was suddenly very quiet. "It was very beautiful, I thought." He shook his head to remove memories. "Anyway, I think you'll do rather well, just by what I see of you."

Ash smiled, starting down the stairs. Then he paused and turned. "Gus, thank you."

"For what?" the Pokémon asked softly.

"For . . . for running the test still, I guess."

"You guess?" Gus sighed, looking over the snow landscape. "Ash, please learn to chose your words better. You wound so deeply, and so unintentionally."

"I'm sorry," he stammered. "Really. It's just that this test . . ." He trailed off, unable to find words.

"It does make you think, re-evaluate your life a bit, doesn't it?" Gus agreed softly. "But Ash, it's not meant to tell you to forgo fear, not to listen to it. Just not to be controlled by it."

"Does what I saw have any . . . truth?"

"I can't answer that. I don't know what goes on in your little brain."

Ash smiled weakly. "Neither do I."

"Then you have a definite problem, Trainer Ash."

"Maybe if I don't know what I plan to do, neither will the other Trainers," Ash countered.

"Don't get into a physiological debate with me," Gus chuckled. "I will wipe the floor with you. I am the Ghost Master of Fear. If I were to battle you, I would win."

"I know. But for how long will you be able to say that?" Ash grinned, walking back down the stairs. "Someday I'll be a Master . . . of _Something_," he added, remembering both Gus' and Irus' views on becoming a Master.

"I will be willing to bet even when you are a Master I will beat you," Gus called. "Because, Trainer, not of my level, but because of my Trainer."

Ash paused, looking back as Gus. "What?"

"A fair warning to you. If you continue, be prepared for even more dangerous fears, without a GipSi to help," he murmured, turning to re-enter the building.

He looked at Gus, slowly returning to his friends and Pokémon. "Who's that?" Shamin asked.

"Just . . . a Trainer." _Who said Pokémon couldn't be Trainers? Not me._ Ash smiled brightly at them.

"How would you all like to get a room for the rest of Winter?"

Miriam acted like the magic words had been spoken. Her foul mood dropped. "Really?" Ash nodded. "Yes, oh, yes. Definitely."

"Hey," Irus smiled, suddenly coming up with Hunter at her side. Both were covered in snow. "Guess this is good-bye."

Ash shrugged, grinning. "Nice meeting you, Irus. Sorry I couldn't meet you too, Hunter."

"No ya're not," Miriam muttered as Hunter extended his hand for Ash to shake. "Don't take the hand. Trust me. Don't." Ash listened, mentally working the name _Hunter_ into his mind, rolling it around until the name transformed into _Haunter_.

"You too. We'll teleport you to a nice city, no walking," Irus informed the girls.

"How?" Shamin asked.

Miriam didn't ponder on details. "Yes!" Then she paused, looking at Hunter. "I'll never meet ya again, right?"

"Probably not," he chirped.

She grinned evilly. "Then I wanna give ya somethin'." She held out her arms like she was going to give a hug. "Come 'ere."

Hunter grinned and walked over. But, with lightening-quick reflexes after the hug, Miriam brought her knee straight up in a perfectly aimed kick. Ash even winced. And, probably for the first time in his time as a Human, Hunter felt _real_ pain.

"It's been nice knowin' ya," Miriam smiled, her satisfied grin on her features.

"Jolly good show," he squeaked, still holding himself.

Irus laughed, along with Shamin. (Ash found he really couldn't laugh, making a mental note never to _truly_ piss Miriam off.) Shamin looked at Irus. "Well, thanks for watching out for him."

"My pleasure. He was great company. Real warm in bed."

Shamin's eyes went wide as Irus grinned wickedly. "Oh," she got out. Even Miriam raised her eyebrow at that, looking between the two.

"You'll like him."

"Irus," Ash pleaded, his cheeks slightly reddening. Shamin took it the wrong way, jaw open and looking between the two.

"You . . . and, and . . . you . . .?"

Miriam crossed her arms. "This I have a hard time believin'."

Irus grinned mischievously, suddenly moving over to give Ash a deep kiss. And, heaven help him, Ash kissed back. Hey, it wasn't everyday a beautiful girl/Pokémon kissed him.

"Huh?" Shamin got out. Miriam just stood there with an extremely blank look on her face.

Slowly Irus pulled away, the impish grin on her features. Ash grinned.

"Misdreavus."

"I think I'm spending too much time in this form," she whispered, kissing him again. Then she pushed away, winking slightly. "Good bye."

Shamin looked at him, still open-mouthed. Ash merely shrugged at her, grinning idiotically.

And suddenly, they were in an alley.

"You slept with that _TRAMP_!" Shamin screamed at him. Ash merely smiled, bringing his hands behind his head and whistling a small tune. "Miriam!"

"I am not getting' into this," Miriam said evasively. "But, ya shouldn't say tramp like it's a bad thing."

Ash grinned. "Yeah. You are traveling with one, and you shouldn't insult her."

"Looks like two!" Shamin snapped.

"Gip?" GipSi suddenly stuck her head out of Ash's pack.

"It's one of them!" Miriam screamed dramatically, holding her pack protectively.

"Come on, guys," Ash sighed as GipSi leaped onto his head, chittering stupidly. "Let's go find a apartment."

"With runnin' water and a bath, three bedrooms, a balcony, and a nice kitchen," Miriam stated, still holding her pack very protectively from the tiny, and now very interested, thief.

Ash merely shook his head, taking the squirrel off his head so she couldn't leap towards Miriam, then looked at Shamin. "Any preferences?" She merely glared at him, and Ash shrugged, allowing Pikachu to crawl up his arm to sit on his shoulder. GipSi copied. "Ya know, Pikachu, this little group is sort of like that song title?"

She looked at him quizzically. "Pi?" He merely hummed a little tune and didn't continue.

_**POKÉDEX**_

Endallah—the Death Pokémon:

Those who are going to die are the only ones who can see a Pokémon of myth, Endallah. In most cases, usually directly preceding death, but some people claim to have seen three weeks prior. Usually portrayed as a Skeleton type Pokémon but able to shift appearances to look like a Human or otherwise, Endallah _is_ considered, mythologically speaking, to be the most powerful Pokémon, for everything dies. Pokémon mythologists argue upon whether or not Endallah will die under her own scythe, as her purpose is to kill _everything_. You only meet Endallah once, for she does not make mistakes. She does not play games, battle for supremacy, or carry around hourglasses of people's lives. Those are just Romantic beliefs. [return]

Livonah—the Life Pokémon:

Endallah's counterpart, off-and-on lover, and rival, Livonah is the Bringer of Life, especially strong in the Spring. Although he always loses to his lover, Livonah continues to try and give mortals the few seconds more of Life. According to myth, the only way he could find to do that was to romantically delay Endallah from her Duty. Although he never succeed, he came very close once. Livonah knows very well that it will be Endallah who will kill him, although Pokémon mythologists claim that neither can possibly die, for where there's Life, there's Death; where there's Death, there's Life. He carries around a soft bell that, when rung, a life starts anew. Hence the saying, "The Ring in Spring." [return]


	14. Chapter 13

**Chapter Eleven:**Merry Christmas!

"_Please_, Miriam, take a picture!" Shamin snickered gleefully looking down the other end of the café. "It'll last longer, you know. And, man, you have to have a picture of _that_."

Miriam grinned as well, following her gaze. "I think he brought it upon himself."

"_Yes!_" Shamin agreed. Now she knew why Miriam said she loved her job, and why she kept telling Shamin to get a job at the mall right away—today.

"What time's yar shift start?"

"Five minutes. Man, I wish I was working _here_." She looked hopefully at Miriam. "Trade places?"

"I don't wrap gifts." Miriam grinned. "_I_ take the pictures."

Shamin grinned. "Take one for me, okay? That's all I want for the Holidays."

"We'll see. Now get down there before ya're late for ya first day. That'd be a great way to start."

"It would, wouldn't it?" Shamin smiled. "By at least my 'uniform' is normal." She held up the long skirt portion of her red velvet dress. "I just hope my ears don't fall off again."

Miriam smacked her gum. "Get lost, and don't work too hard."

"Trust me, I won't. Bye!"

The older woman waved her good bye, leaning back on her chair and looking around the mall. Tacky holiday decorations hung and seemed to be directed at the 'giving' part of the Holiday. (Miriam had always preferred the 'taking' portion, herself.) She looked at her watch one last time, then started up to the main attraction of the center, straightening out her elbow long white gloves as she did so. Walking past the ridiculous plastic reindeer and up the steps, she grinned at the short green elf that was nursing a bruised knee.

"Ya do look so cute," she grinned, then blew a large bubble.

Ash glared up at her. "Oh, don't you _dare_ start with me, Miriam."

"Start what?" she asked innocently, crossing her arms. There was the definite I-Am-Superior look in her smile and eyes.

Ash stood up, the bells on his overly large shoes jiggling annoyingly.

"Just _one_ word, and I'll start training again. Promise or no promise!" He waited for that _one_ word. Miriam had to say it. She would if she had any mercy in her at all.

Oh God, he must be delirious.

Miriam grinned, smacking her gum even more. It annoyed the heck out of him. "I won't say _anything_, Little Elf."

He glared at her. "I hate you," he muttered, turning around to get back to work. Why'd he have to get transferred to this section? He _liked_ stocking shelves. And who was the bitch that even _suggested_ him?

"Remember, Elves smile!" Miriam reminded happily, going over to the camera and relieving the previous operator. Ash sneered at her, then forced his I'm-_So-_Happy smile. Miriam smirked. This was too easy of a job. Point, tell them to smile, and click. Job done. Miriam smiled turning around to look at the line of kids. "And who's next to sit on Santa's lap?"

"ME!" the first kid yelped, jumping up and down. Miriam was pretty sure it was a boy in a snowsuit.

"Well, up ya go," she smiled, unlocking the gate so the suit could get over to Ash and Santa. (There **was** kid in this thing right?)

"Hey, kid," Ash smiled.

The snowsuit looked up. "You look like a dork."

"Don't insult Santa's hired help," he retorted with a false sweet smile. "Just hop—_gently_—!" Ash groaned as the snowsuit jumped energetically on Santa, who looked less-than-thrilled at the treatment. Well, at least this kid when on the lap willingly. That last girl kicked hard, and Mommy _had_ to put on those buckle shoes.

Miriam snapped the camera, then watched as the boy spewed his twenty-page Christmas list to Santa. Ash stood tapping his foot impatiently, bell going _a-jingle a-jingle-jingle,_ and Miriam had to grin. God, this was comedy.

She wasn't sure what completed the costume. Was it the clown-sized green bell shoes that he constantly tripped from? The mint green knee pants with the holly-print trim? The _really_ big forest green jacket that looked like Ash was a toddler wearing his father's coat? The blue-and-yellow knit tights with matching scarf and stocking hat? Or maybe the ludicrous elf ears at stuck out a good three inches? The fact that he was so fricking short?

No, Miriam grinned, it was the expression Ash wore, the one that showed utter embarrassment. Miriam was *** glad she had gotten this job and didn't have to wear that costume. Her short sleeveless red dress with white fluff at the collar and hem, Santa hat, gloves, fishnet stockings, and knee-high high heels boots were something Miriam would have worn willingly; they showed decent taste, minus the Elf ears. Miriam would have even worn Shamin's costume, the long dark red velvet gown with loose long sleeves and matching Santa hat, but then she'd draw the line at the matching bell shoes. That was definitely pushing the point.

Miriam was glad the last Elf quit. He was a jerk and a bum. She just had to make sure she never told Ash who had suggested a new Elf with the promise of higher pay, as management needed someone who could "fit" into the getup.

When Ash looked up at, rolling his eyes in boredom, Miriam smiled and gave him a small wave. He glared at her.

She was so glad she wasn't in Wrapping. This was too much fun.

****

"My toes were starting to curl," Shamin muttered as she slipped off her shoes and pulled off the hat, forgetting about the hairpins. "Ow."

"Your toes?" Ash growled, hiding his costume in the back of the locker as Shamin went towards the changing rooms. "I had five more hours than both of you since that bitch didn't show up! Third time this week that's happened to me! I could sue because of child-labor laws! But today, that costume." He shuddered.

"That was rather mean of him, wasn't it?" Miriam smiled, brushing her hair. SantaLand got out ten minutes earlier than Wrapping, so both Ash and her were changed. "But ya were such a cute Elf."

"Don't start," Ash warned, slamming the locker. "I'm never having kids. Never. I hate kids."

"Only because every fifth one kicked ya," she said lightly.

"Did you take a picture, Miriam?" Shamin asked, slipping back in, costume draped over her arm.

Ash's head snapped up from tying his shoe. "You better have not."

"I would only be doin' my if I did," she grinned, slipping her hand in her pocket. "Not my fault if the camera was bit off." With take she produced three pictures from her pocket.

"Give me _them!_" Ash ordered, trying to snatch them from her hand.

"The entire mall saw you—"

"And laughed at ya," Miriam added, weaving her arm around.

Shamin grinned, jumping on the bench to get the pictures from Miriam. "And yet you're upset about some pictures!" she laughed, dashing nimbly away.

"You wear that costume, then!" Ash challenged, trying to get the pictures as Shamin strategically placed a table in between them. "Give me the pictures, Shamin."

"No," she smiled sweetly, moving sideways as Ash started to come around the table.

"Yes."

"No."

"_Yes._"

"Children," Miriam interrupted, setting her hands between the two of them. "Enough games. We got some serious shoppin' to do. Christmas is so close, ya know. Morrow night."

"If she wants any presents from me, she'll give me the pictures!" Ash snapped, climbing over the table.

"I got my present! Thank you so very much too!" Shamin laughed, crawling under the table and out the door. "Meet ya at the apartment!"

Ash glared, crossing his arms angrily. "You are getting _nothing_!" he hissed at Miriam.

"All I need is yar embarrassment," she grinned, poking his nose. "And I got that." She set her purse on her shoulder. "Have fun shoppin'."

"Have fun spending your first _honest_ paycheck!" Ash snapped back at her retreating figure.

"And yars!"

Ash dug his hand in his pocket and found that it was empty. "MIRIAM!"

****

Pyro jumped off the bed and onto the other. "_Give that back, Rodent!_"

"_Pikapi gave it to me!_" Pikachu countered, diving under the bed.

"_That one's mine! Miriam gave it to me!_"

"_Yours is in the kitchen!_"

"_Is not! I distinctly remembering shoving it under the pillow!_" he growled, jumping right in front of her.

Pikachu held her giant candy cane—it was even bigger than her—protectively, little bolts escaping her cheeks. "_Chuka moved it, dork, otherwise Chupi would have broken it when she jumped on the bed!_"

Pyro glared at her, but eased back. Without another word, he leaped onto the bed and curled into a ball, growling that he had made a stupid mistake. Pikachu followed a few moments later, sitting on the pillow.

"_This is my Tra—bed,_" Pyro growled. "_Go sit on Blondie's_."

"_I don't want to sit on the couch_," Pikachu said lightly, peeling off the wrapping to suck on the candy. "_What were you gonna call Chupi_?"

"_Shut up, Rodent_."

She grinned, knowing what he really meant to say. Sucking contently, Pikachu looked around the bedroom. Pikapi and Chuka had decided it would be cheaper to simply rent a room for a few months instead of staying in a hotel. The apartment was nice, albeit cheap. The beds were covered in their sleeping bags, and the previous owner had left the couch Pikapi was using. (No wonder, considering how lumpy and rotten the thing was.) There was no refrigerator, but they did have a small stove. Luckily none of them expected decent meals, most of the time grabbing a ration from their bags.

"_Hey, Pyro, look at my tongue!_" Pikachu laughed, sticking out her tongue to show that it was semi-striped.

He looked at her slightly. "_Oh, wow. A dork_."

She grinned and continued to suck on the candy.

"_What time is it?_"

"_They'll be home in a few hours,_" Pikachu said lightly.

Pyro rolled on his side. "_I don't see why I couldn't come along. Something could happen._"

Pikachu shook her head sadly. For the past few weeks, Pyro had been less than thrilled at staying in the apartment. He didn't like having four walls around him. No, that wasn't quite it. He didn't like being alone. (Pikachu, in his opinion, didn't count as company.) He wanted to get out and explore the lay of the land, but that was dangerous in this city, especially around Christmas. Of course, that was his reasoning for why he should be with Miriam. It was dangerous. He just got the idea about for whom wrong. As far as Pyro was concerned, the only one who would get hurt was the other guy.

"_What is going on, anyway?_"

"_It's Christmastime_," Pikachu informed him. "_Or close to Chanukah, depending on the Religion._"

"_Do we get to eat another bird?_" Pyro had liked Thanksgiving a lot, even though it had been where they just stopped at a restaurant.

"_We can, but it's not really tradition. This holiday we get presents. Well, Pikapi did last year. It's a family holiday._"

Pyro looked at her dully. "_So they just invent a Holiday for family?_"

"_Well, it's supposed to be religious, but Commercialism Has Gotten A Hold._" Pikachu wasn't sure what that meant, but she had heard Pikapi's father say that once, and Pikapi had agreed, so it was probably true.

He nodded, making it seem like he understood. "_So what happens_?"

"_You don't know?_" Then she cursed her mouth. Of course he wouldn't know, being from the forest his whole life, away from Human contact. "_Sorry, my mistake. At Pikapi's house, they gathered for supper and then gave out presents. And this man comes down the chimney. His name is Santa Clause._"

Pyro growled at the thought of an intruder entering their place. "_Doesn't Miriam work with that guy_?" _So he was going to try robbing a fellow worker, huh? Well, Mister Santa Claus better get ready to meet Mr. Sharp Claws, whose friends with Mr. Sharp Teeth_.

Pikachu shrugged._ "But you give people you care about gifts._"

Pyro blinked slowly. "_What do you give them?_"

"_Whatever you want, I guess. Maybe what they want. You don't have to give gifts, of course. This is a Holiday about love and stuff._"

"_And you can't wrap that up_," Pyro finished sarcastically. "_I better not get another coat_."

"_Pyro, I think you're missing the point. It's better to give than to receive._"

He looked at her like she was a moron. "_No it's not. I'd rather get than give. Cheaper."_

Pikachu rolled her eyes. "_Not literally! Morally it's better._"

"_You mean with Ethics and stuff?_" She nodded, and Pyro grinned. "_I don't got any of them._"

"_Bull!"_

He grinned, sitting up._ "Really? I'm not very nice, you know."_ Then, with lightening quick reflexes, he snatched her candy cane and ran. Pikachu was right on his heels.

"_PYRO!_"

****

"Are you _almost_ done?" Ash whined from his bench, the few bags Miriam had bought next to him.

"I'd like to get my check back."

"I told ya ya'd get it back. I just didn't say when," Miriam grinned, picking up glass ornament.

Ash looked critically at the bags and what was inside them. "Why are you buying this crap? It's not like you can travel with it."

"That's _not_ the point. The point is I have it."

"Have you actually bought any gifts?"

"Yep. For some of the girls at work, and Shammy and the Pokémon. Can't shop for ya if ya're here, though."

"Give me my money and I'll leave," Ash smiled.

"And then I'd lose my pack mule? Think not," she grinned. "Whatcha gonna get me?"

"Nothing, remember?" he smiled.

"Ya're so cute," she kissed. "What 'bout Rodent?" Ash shrugged. "Pyro?"

"Why would I get something for him? Maybe I should just wrap up my arm," he suggested sarcastically.

"How 'bout Shamin?"

"I dunno. She said she already got her present, anyway."

"Don't ya ever take what she says seriously," Miriam advised with a smile.

"I'm not stupid."

"That's debatable. Which one?" She held up two orbs for Ash's inspection.

"They're the same," Ash said slowly.

"No. _This_ one's purple, and _this_ one's dark blue."

"I don't care, Miriam." He looked at her with pleading eyes. "Please, just give me my check, all right? I have shopping too."

"All guys wait for the last second."

"Only because girls make them lug their shopping bags around the five weeks beforehand."

Miriam smiled at him. "Fine. Go shopping."

Ash grinned, jumping up. "My check?"

"Ya left it in yar locker."

"What?"

She smirked at him. "Ya left it in yar locker," she repeated slowly, smiling even wider. "Idiot."

Ash stood flabbergasted. "You—_ugh_!" With turned smartly and stormed out of the store, Miriam's laughter in his ears.

****

Shamin carefully set down her wrapped presents under their very tiny tree (Miriam had asked what was the point in getting a big, expensive tree). "What do you think, guys?"

Pikachu sniffed her present, trying to figure out what it was. "Chu?"

"_No_ hints!" Shamin laughed.

Pyro sat on his hunches, eyeing his present but having too much pride to inspect it like Pikachu. But he did note with satisfaction that it was bigger than hers was.

"I can't wait until tomorrow, can't you?" she chatted standing to stretch. "We're going out to restaurant, you guys too, but you got to be careful, of course."

Pikachu and Pyro nodded.

"And then we might get to open presents. Miriam says she might make us wait until Christmas Day, but that's so like her. What are you going to get her, Pyro?"

Pyro stopped pointblank. He thought Pikachu had been kidding on that.

"You should get her something. And what are you getting Shan, Pikachu?" Pikachu looked equally abashed, and Shamin looked down at them with a half smile. "Tsk, tsk. Selfish little creatures," she teased as she opened a bag to get something to eat.

Both Pikachu and Pyro looked at each other, slightly in worry.

****

Both Miriam and Shamin looked up from their board game when Ash trudged in, holding only a small package.

"What'd you do?" Shamin asked.

"Shopped."

"Did ya buy anythin', other than cards?" Miriam asked after seeing the label.

"_Yes_, I did. I bought my mom and dad some stuff, and I mailed it out. And I'm going to write cards to everyone else."

"Even us?" Shamin asked sweetly.

"Do you know how much postage costs?" Ash countered. "The post office must be rich from what I paid them."

"So what'd ya get yar folks?" Miriam asked curiously as Ash settled down next to them with a pen, ready to write the Merry Christmas junk that all people write in Christmas cards. His had Pokémon on them, big surprise there.

Ash shrugged, trying to write neater than normal on a card with an underwater-variety Christmas scene displayed on it. "I got my mom this small glass sculpture thingy with flowers and birds. And for Dad I got this really weird magnet thing. You can make sculptures or something, I think. Sort of a stress reliever thing. It was either that or a tie." He looked up and grinned.

"What'd ya get Rodent?"

"Nothing yet. I'm going out early tomorrow before work to finish up, and mail these things."

"Who's Misty?" Shamin asked, looking over his shoulder.

He tried to shrug neutrally. "Old friend. I still owe her a bike, I guess."

"You guess?"

"Okay, I do. Like Misty'd ever let me forget, right, Pikachu?"

Pikachu smiled, and she could see Ash was seriously struggling not to give anything away.

"Anyway, it's a long story, but we traveled together for a few years. Brock and Tracey too," Ash finished quickly, stuffing Misty's card into an envelope and sealing it. Then he went to Brock's card.

Miriam and Shamin looked at each other, then went back to their game.

****

"What are you guys doing?" Ash demanded at the Pokémon who wouldn't let him out the door. Just because it was still dark out didn't mean he wouldn't start shopping.

"Pikapi, pikachu pika chuchu," Pikachu explained while Pyro growled.

"You don't need to shop for presents," Ash sighed.

"Chu!"

He rolled his eyes, then gripped his pack. "Fine, you both can come. Just let me right a note to Miriam so she doesn't worry about Pyro." Ash glared at the fox. "And you be nice to me, for once. I'm doing you a favor."

Pyro snorted, then watched as Ash walked over to write the note. "_I'm not getting in there,_" he said as Pikachu leaped in.

"_Don't be stubborn_," Pikachu scolded. "_There's plenty of room_."

"_No."_

"_Well, what are you gonna do? Ride on Pikapi's shoulders like you do on Chuka_?"

"_I'm not getting in there._"

"_Pyro_."

Ash walked over. "Okay, Pyro, in."

Pyro growled.

"I'm not playing, Pyro. Get in next to Pikachu," Ash ordered patiently. Pyro still glared at him.

"Look, you can't just walk around. We'd get in even more trouble than normal. Now get in."

Pyro sat stubbornly.

"You're not coming along if you don't get in," Ash warned. "I tell you, you're not."

Pyro glared at him.

****

"You're fucking heavy," Ash complained under his breath, trying to hold I'm-a-really-cool-stuff-toy Pyro in his arms. Pyro glared at him for even suggesting the notion. "Stubborn Pokémon. You didn't have to bite so hard either." The fox growled, stating subtly that he could have bitten a lot harder.

They walked down the ice slick walkway, Ash occasionally glancing in the windows at possible gifts.

"So, Pyro, what do you plan to buy Miriam?" he asked conversationally, then thought about what he had just said. "_How _do you plan to pay for it?"

Pyro grinned up at him.

"Why do I even ask?" Ash muttered, then looked over his shoulder to try and look at Pikachu. "Is it the same for you?"

They hadn't though about that part of the problem, or at least she hadn't. "Pi," she admitted sheepishly.

Ash shook his head sadly, but there was a slight grin on his face. They just wanted to get in on the fun. "You silly Pokémon. All right, I'll chip in for your gifts. Just don't make them too expensive. And yes, that includes you, Pyro."

The fox bristled his fur. He should be able to have Blondie buy whatever he wanted the boy to buy. This was Christmas, after all. Besides, where was he going to find a cheap _good_ gift for Miriam?

****

He felt really stupid at the cash register with his eyes closed, but Ash did it anyway so he didn't quite know what Pikachu had picked out for him. Luckily the clerk had seen a lot more weirdoes already today, and Ash was probably one of the more normal ones to close their eyes as their items were checked out. Even still, she looked at him with slight apprehension, fingering the security button.

"Okay, Pyro, have you found anything, yet?" Ash asked as he leaned against the wall outside next to an alley, looking up at the figure above them. Pyro had refused to go into such a store (both Pikachu and Ash had found it interesting on the outside) and had spent some time strolling the avenue via rooftops and ledges.

Pyro glared at him as an answer. Christmas shopping was hard work, and he didn't like it anymore. Not that he ever liked it, mind you, but now he _really_ despised it. Christmas was sadistic.

Ash smiled. He hadn't had much more luck in finding the last two gifts either, but he knew the fox would be taking it harder. Pyro had no sense of patience, just a bit less than Ash had. "Don't worry. You still got like eight hours. And remember, it's the thought that counts."

Pyro almost spit-fired him.

****

Pyro snickered from the balcony next to Pikachu. "_Why wouldn't Miriam let me see this?_"

Pikachu glared at him, but she too was having difficulty keeping a straight face. "_It's not funny._" She was seriously trying not to laugh.

"_No,_" Pyro agreed, then laughed aloud. "_It's hilarious!_"

She gave up and laughed along. "_Can you believe that outfit?"_ she demanded, tears from her eyes and she pointed down at her Trainer.

"_And that the stupid is actually wearing it!_" Pyro added gleefully.

"_Look at those shoes_!"

"_That color! The pants look like warm vomit!_"

Pikachu snorted, rolling on her back.

"Well, well, well, what have we here?"

Both Pikachu and Pyro leaped up and turned to see a group of people holding nets, darts, and badges stating them as 'Feral Pokémon Control'.

Pyro growled. "_Oh, crap_."

Pikachu nodded her head, letting her electric sacs start to work.

"Let's get to work, guys."

****

Screams filled the mall, and Ash looked up from his post to see people running to all directions. "What's going on!" Suddenly he saw what, as two little figures started escaping the stairs that led upstairs. "Oh, god!"

"Wild Pokémon are in the mall!" a mother screamed, clutching her children and running off.

"But Mommy, I wanna see!"

Ash kicked off the stupid shoes, grabbed a box, and started to run down the steps just as Pikachu released a Thundershock at a section of the guards that suddenly had gotten too close. Pyro, on the other hand, managed to avoid the men by sheer agility and speed. (The fox held promise.) He leaped onto carts and up a banner to stand on the railing of the balcony.

"PIKACHU!" Pikachu spat, slipping up and over a man's shoulder, similar to what she did to Ash, and shocking him.

Ash gritted his teeth and let out a piecing whistle Miriam had taught him. The men wouldn't know where it was from, but Pyro and Pikachu could figure it out easily. Pikachu looked up from her run and saw him. Ash pointed at the box, opening it. They always were empty, and Pikachu nodded, doubling back in double-time.

He knew he had to play the part right, otherwise they'd figure it out. When Pikachu neared close enough that even the dumbest Pokémon Catcher could figure out where she was headed, he screamed, "It's going to attack me!" then dived stupidly next to the sleigh. Pikachu was soon next to him and in the box, and he slammed the lib shut and redid the bow.

The officers ran by, one stopping to check him. "You all right?"

"Where'd that thing go?" Ash whispered fearfully.

"Don't worry, kid. We'll get it." The man then looked around the mall. "Well, there goes my Christmas shopping," he muttered, running off.

"Where'd Pyro, Pikachu?" Ash whispered to the box.

"Chu," she responded.

Sudden a man screamed.

"Oh, I think I know," Ash smiled in a worried manner. _Damn fox, get down here_!

"Hey, Boss, I got one!" a voice called, and Ash looked up to see a heavily burned man clutching a kicking bag.

"Great, least we got one!"

"We put this one down! He's mean!" the wounded man ordered as the bag gave an especially mean kick.

"Pi!" the box screeched.

"Oh, crap," Ash gasped.

****

The mall was unofficially closed, and Ash was given the day off, with pay. He was going to need that pay to bail Pyro out.

"Come on, Pikachu. Who knows how much time we got?" he gasped, running down the ice-slick street with a ripped page from the telephone book as his directions. He didn't even have time to get extra Pokémon for help. He only prayer was that he wasn't too late. Poor Miriam if he was . . . poor Pyro . . .

The Pokémon Pound was near the outskirts of town with a large burning pit next to it, a small fire going still. Ash refused to think of why they'd need it as he ran through the door, looking wildly down the aisles for Pyro.

"Can I help you?" asked a gruff voice.

Ash gasped and tried to get his composure and think of an excuse. He couldn't just say he was going to bail out that wild Pokémon that terrorized the mall today. "Umm . . . could I . . . buy a Pokémon for my . . . friend?" he squeaked.

The dirty man held his cigar tightly between his teeth. "Here?"

"I heard they're cheaper?"

"Course they are. Don't have all that fancy doctoring. These are wild Pokémon. Well, they were," he grinned, indicating the empty cages with a heavily bandaged hand, something Ash was willing to bet as Pyro's work. "Now they're just dead."

Ash tried to think. "How about a newborn?" Then he tried to sneer. "I don't know why she wants one, the slimy pests." Pikachu kicked him through the pack, hard, and Ash struggled to keep any indication on his face off.

"So, getting one for your girlfriend?" the man grinned, taking away the cigar. He had a gold tooth, and the rest were yellow.

"Um . . . yeah," Ash smiled. "She's stupid for wanting one, if you ask me. Dangerous, they are. You hear about that attack at the mall today?"

The man chuckled. "Yep. Caught one."

"I heard there was like five there, and they were on a murderous rampage!"

"Yep."

"And you only caught one?" Ash had to grin at the trap he had caught the man in.

"There's devils," the man gruffed, rubbing his chin. "I think I can help you with your girlfriend trouble. We got a pup."

"Oh, thanks. About that one you caught at the mall? Did you destroy it yet? Should be destroyed as soon as possible, seeing how dangerous Pokémon are. Especially that one. They say he was the ringleader, and the rest of the gang'll come down soon." If Pyro was hearing this, Ash prayed he had a sense of Humor. Pikachu certainly didn't, kicking him through the pack at every insult to Pokémon, and she knew he was just kidding. "I just hope that Pikachu doesn't go on any attack sprees. She attacked a boy, did ya hear?"

"They attack everyone. Look, I'll show you that pup. Come with me."

"Thanks, Sir." Ash let him go through the door before he slid off his pack. "Would you stop kicking me!" he hissed.

Pikachu glared at him. "Pi chu pikachu!"

"Fine, I deserve it, all right. Just look around the rest of the place and find Pyro, all right? I'll stall this guy. Umm, make a crash if you find and free him." Then Ash turned and took off after the man.

Pikachu frowned at him, thinking he didn't have to play the part of a Pokémon hater so well. Then she sniffed the air, trying to find Pyro's scent. That was easily done. Seemed like he defiled the whole place. Typical Male.

Sniffing carefully, she started over. There was another door just behind the desk, and Pikachu jumped up to turn the knob and push it open. Ooh, yeah, he definitely came this way.

"_Pyro?_"

"_About time!_" he snapped in the darkness from the opposite end of the room. "_Get me out of here!_"

"_Let me get a light!_"

"_NO!_" he screamed, then paused. Pikachu could hear him taking a deep breath to control himself. "_Don't. Don't turn the light on, Pikachu. You don't want to see_."

Pikachu sat startled. It sounded like there was a tremor of fear in his voice, in Pyro's? God, she didn't want the light on now, not if he was afraid. "_All right_."

Quickly she scurried over to his voice. Her fur trembled, for now that she was in the heart of the room a smell emitted from the room. She was glad Pyro hadn't let her turn on the light, and she didn't want to know what the wet stuff she avoided was, the stuff that dripped from the ceiling.

Pyro could see in the dark, at least better than she, and he knew, and Pikachu knew that. She leaped into the table, and cut her paw on a knife that was out. "_Ow!_" she gasped, sucking on her paw.

"_Are you all right?_" Pyro asked, concerned. It was so unlike him.

Tasting her blood, Pikachu nodded, walking closer to his voice. She felt the bars. "_Do you need a key?_"

"_No. We're dumb Pokémon, remember?_" he said with false lightness. "_There's a lever, two really. You squeeze both of them and pull the door._"

Pikachu nodded and grit her teeth, pushing the levers together. Her wounded paw complained heavily, but she continued and yanked hard on the door. Pyro bounded out the second the door was open an inch, thus causing Pikachu to loose her balance and almost fall from the table. He gripped her tail to save her.

"_Thanks_," she gasped.

"_You too,_" he replied. "_Let's get out of here._" Pyro literally leaped down the table and out the door at top speed. Pikachu followed just as quickly, shutting the door.

"_Pyro?_" she asked, looking around. He was gone. "_Pyro?_"

His head appeared out of Ash's bag. "_Can we leave now?_"

Pikachu bit her lip. He was afraid.

****

"Here it is," the man gruffed, stopping at a cage. Ash bent down to examine the mass of rags.

"What?" he asked, confused.

The man looked down and rapped smartly on the bars. "Out, ya mutt."

The rags moved, and suddenly an orange face appeared. "A Growlithe," Ash muttered.

"Know your Pokémon, do you?"

"My . . . girlfriend thought they were cute," Ash said quickly, studying the pup as it looked at him with its large brown eyes hopefully. It was only a few months old, its milk teeth still in and mostly a mass of downy, stripped fur. The lines were good though. This was no street mutt Pokémon under his inspection. "Where'd ya get it?"

"He came in last week, disabled runt of the litter. Not worth a penny, owner said."

"What's wrong with it?" Ash asked. _It was cute . . ._

"Deaf. Won't be able to control it when it gets older, and who wants a deaf mutt?"

"What's gonna happen to it?"

"Bring-ins get a week to get bought. Captures, on the other hand, get killed same day brought in."

Ash stiffened, but locked his eyes on the pup. "Really?" If the lines were good, it was possible the pup could be trained decently, making it possible to work around the disability. Ash hadn't ever heard of someone using a deaf Pokémon in battle though, and he could understand why. A Trainer and Pokémon didn't have time to constantly make eye contact, and it'd take a seriously long time before the pup could, if at all possible, learn psychic attacks.

"The Ninetales'll be dead once Dan comes in. Gonna chop the tails first. They're worth something. Fur would too, except he's so small. Got a Ninetales farm couple miles away. Make coats from their fur."

"Hope the fire insurance is good," Ash muttered. That was disgusting, but Ash knew better than to comment. After all, hamburgers were made of Tauros. Those coats had to made of something as well. He made a point, though, to inform Miriam that _some_ coats were made with Ninetales' fur.

"Oh, their fires been disabled. Most fire Pokémon have this thing in their mouth that ignites the gas they give off. It gets taken out."

Ash turned his head to look at the man, slightly disgusted. The fire of a fire-type Pokémon was the first method of self-defense. "This pup too?"

The man blew smoke down at the Growlithe. "Too young. Not fully developed in the mouth. See, can only make smoke." As if to illustrate his point, the man kicked the cage to startle the pup, and smoke instantly escaped, followed by a series of ear-splitting yelps. "Cute, ain't he?"

Ash took his hands away from his ears. _That_ attack held definite promise. "Yeah." He had to take the pup. One week already passed, and the guy said they were only allowed a week here.

"How much for it?"

"You want to get it?"

He nodded, shrugging nonchalantly. "I have to get her _something_. Better to get her a pest so she never wants one again. Besides, _I_ know who'll be taking care of it." A very twisted version of the truth, Ash admitted to himself.

The man nodded, grabbing a key and undoing the lock. The Growlithe backed up fearfully, and yelped pitifully when the man grabbed him by the nap of the neck. "We got to fill some papers out, of course. Come with me."

Still holding the pup that way, the man left, and Ash had to bite his tongue so he didn't say anything, listening to the whimpers. _The poor guy_.

Just as they were walking out, a bell rang. _She found him_, Ash thought in a relieved tone, but when he got to the center, he saw someone else had entered. _Oh, ***_.

"In a sec. Sign here, kid." The man gave a paper to Ash, and Ash quickly scrawled his name. Then he cursed mentally, seeing that it was his _real_ name. "All yours, Kid. I'll see ya in a few days to return the pup, I guess."

Ash smiled. "Probably. How much?"

"Take the mutt," he grinned, tossing the mutt over. Ash caught it, startled, then tried to clumsily reassure it.

"Thanks. Where do you get that doctoring stuff, case we do keep it."

The man grinned evilly. "About a hundred miles away. And law says they got to be fixed safe."

"I guess we will be returning it," Ash grinned. Then, carefully he turned, still clutching the shivering pup. He bumped the newcomer. "Oh, sorry, sir."

The man grunted. "No problem kid. Nice Growlithe."

Ash hadn't heard, seeing the red 'R'. Team Rocket. Damn! Ash backed up slowly towards his pack, the squirming Growlithe locked in the crook of his arm. This wasn't good. Where was Pikachu?

"I want that Ninetales caught today," the Rocket member snapped.

"What for?"

"My business," he said, slapping down a thick wad of cash.

_Oh, crap!_ Ash tried to stay calm. Then something nudged his ankle, and he looked down to see Pikachu smiling up at him, paw wrapped in a piece of cloth. Pyro glared at him as well. Breathing a sigh of relief, Ash gripped the pack and all but ran from the building as the keeper moved towards the back room.

****

Ash walked carefully into the apartment. It was late and he hoped everyone was asleep.

"What the Hell happened to Pyro!" Miriam screamed, coming from nowhere to shake him at the collar.

"—" Ash tried to get out, but Miriam was seriously upset.

"Calm down, Miriam!" Shamin yelled.

"NINE!" Pyro agreed in an annoyed tone, sticking his head out from the still shaking pack.

"Pyro!" Miriam gasped, dropping Ash. The fox instantly leaped into her arms and started to nuzzle her. "Oh, ya're all right! I was so frickin' worried!"

"It was all over the news! Attack on the mall!" Shamin screeched. "Where were you guys?"

"We had to get Pyro out before they killed him."

Miriam stopped, frozen. "My baby was almost _killed_?!"

Ash backed up, seeing that dangerous light in her eyes. "Um . . . yeah."

"Ya are never to touch Pyro AGAIN!" Miriam screamed, shaking him again. This time Pikachu fell out of the bag with a flower. Pyro instantly gripped it and pawed Miriam's leg, holding it up to her. "What's this?"

"His Christmas present to you," Ash said quietly as Miriam took the rose. "He picked it out."

"Aw, my baby! Ya're so _sweet!_" Miriam gushed, enveloping the fox in a tight hug.

Shamin smiled at Ash. "You are so lucky, Shan. She _was_ going to kill you."

"Yeah, I noticed." Pikachu tapped his leg and pointed at Ash's pack. "Oh, right. I got you something."

Her eyes sparkled. "Really? What?"

He took off his pack and reached inside. "I had to get it, and it's going to be really hard to work with because—"

Shamin screamed and grabbed the still sleeping pup. The Growlithe could sleep through anything after Ash gave it a few chilidogs, forget about being deaf. Even Miriam's shaking hadn't woken it up. "It's so cute! Thank you, thank you!"

"Shamin, about that pup—"

"Isn't it so cute, Miriam!" Shamin exclaimed, lifting the pup for Miriam's all-important inspection. The pup yawned and blinked blearily.

"Ohh!" Miriam gushed, petting the Pokémon. He yelped happily, pleased with the _nice_ attention he was receiving. This was so different than that cage. Could he have some more of those meat thingies?

"About the pup—"

"Shan, this is the best gift ever!" she laughed, hugging him and giving him a peck on the cheek, only to push herself away quickly. "It's so cute!"

"The pup—" Ash started again, only to be cut off again. He rolled his eyes and gave up. She'd find out soon enough. "Merry Christmas."

Pikachu looked up accusingly. "Pikapi, chu pika!"

He grinned. "Well, I think she'll _still_ like him."

****

Misty opened her mailbox and pulled out the envelopes. _Junk, junk, bill, junk, card . . ._

She smiled a bit and set the others back in the box to hold the card. It had an Onix curled around some presents and a Geodude tossing more down. Who could it be from? The handwriting certainly looked familiar. Shrugging, she broke the seal and opened the card, reading slightly interested to see whom it was from.

Brock—

"Huh?" Misty muttered, unfolding the bottom to free the signature. Her eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when she saw the name, and she let out a deep gasp, leaning up against the wall and other mailboxes to clearly think about what she was reading.

Ash

"Oh, my god," she whispered. He was still alive? He remembered about them? Then she blinked. "'_Brock'_? The idiot mixed up the cards?"

Her card was later found in the possession of Professor Oak.


	15. Chapter 14

**Chapter Twelve:**K-I-S-S-I-N-G Spells _Where_?!

Skipping down the sidewalk on the gloomy day in a Spring mid-afternoon, a clear voice sang, "It's rainin', it's pourin'—"

"_SHUT_ _**UP**_!"

Miriam looked down at her two traveling partners, who were hunched in their el-cheapo poncho and giving her evil glares for even mentioning the word rain. "Pardon?"

Shamin sneezed, pushing the bangs out of her eyes. "Miriam, we know it's raining! Hard!"

"So?" Miriam rather liked rainy weather. As a girl she'd run around with the lightening and thunder as the backdrop for some of the most interesting tales of the Fairy Elf. She grinned at the memory.

"We got to get a hotel or something," Ash sighed, holding Pikachu tighter in his jacket.

"Pikachu could get sick."

"And me," Shamin put in.

"And Pyro isn't exactly liking it."

Miriam blinked. "Really?" Both Ash and Shamin nodded vigorously, seeing an opening. Carefully Miriam slipped a hand under her hood, searching for the soft fur of her Ninetales. She could feel him curled up around her neck like a shawl, his tail curling up on one shoulder and his head resting on the other. "Ya okay, Pyro?"

The tiny Ninetales opened his eyes and yawned. "Ninne?"

"He's been asleep, idiots," Miriam snapped.

Ash shrugged. "So? You shouldn't expose Fire type Pokémon to water too much. It could hurt their fire." _Especially if the Pokémon's a Charmander_, he added mentally, just so he wasn't lying.

"That true?" Miriam asked skeptically. He had that look on that said he was leaving something out.

"Well," Shamin said quickly. "You don't want Pyro to get sick. He'll sneeze and burn off all your hair."

Miriam nodded, looking at the two drenched youngsters, who were watching expectantly, hope dancing in their eyes. "Fine, but ya're losing a whole day of trainin'," she said, poking Ash's nose.

He grinned, rubbing his nose. "I'd lose more if I got sick, though."

"We could use a break anyway, Miriam. Those Leagues were hard!"

"For _who_?" Ash muttered, rubbing his head as if trying to remember. Shamin ignored him.

She smiled. "Come on then. I think I see a hotel where we can crash."

As she walked ahead, she could hear the two giving each other high fives and hissing,

"_Yes_!"

****

The trio trudged into the building, looking almost drowned after a few hours of searching. They hadn't had any luck in finding an empty room yet, and now everyone wanted a _dry_ bed. The clerk, a man with thinning hair, glanced up at them briefly before stating, "No more rooms."

"There's got to be one!" Shamin exclaimed, almost near tears.

"No rooms," he repeated. "Try another hotel."

"Come on! Have you seen the rain out there?" Ash exclaimed, wringing out his poncho and making a small lake on the carpeted floor. There was no way they were going back out there.

"We'll stay in the lobby!"

"No room."

"Please!"

"Please!"

"No! Room!" he snapped bitingly.

"But—"

Miriam put her hand on Shamin's shoulder. "Let me handle this, kids." Then, throwing back her shoulders, she strolled up to the counter and whispered something in the man's ear. He immediately tensed and looked at her in shock.

"Well?" she asked coyly, batting her eyelashes.

He withdrew a key from under the counter and tossed it without looking. Ash barely caught it before it hit the ground. "Just down the hall, two beds."

"Whoa," Ash said. "How'd you—" He was cut off by Shamin gripping his collar and dragging him away. Miriam followed up until the room, handing them Pyro and her bag.

"Make yourselves comfortable, and don't wait up," she sighed, forcing a smile.

"How'd you—" Ash tried to ask again, with the same results. Shamin dragged him into the room, giving Miriam a weak smile.

"We really don't need a room, Miriam," she whispered. Miriam acted like she hadn't heard and walked back down the hall. Shamin followed the older woman with eyes that were a mixture of respect and horror.

****

Shamin looked at the clock numbers again. It was past midnight, and she curled under her blanket into a tighter ball around Trigger, her little Growlithe. Her eyes fell onto the other bed, which was empty, save for Pyro.

Miriam always had her own bed, no matter what. She refused to sleep with anyone, the Pokémon being the only exception to that rule. Ash never countered because he saw no need, (and had no want of the wounds and argument that would follow if Miriam didn't get her way,) being able to sleep on the floor as easily as a bed. Shamin didn't object because she knew why, and respected the older woman too much not to obey it.

She closed her eyes, breathing deeply. Miriam always felt the responsibility that she had to take care of the group, But sometimes—like now—Shamin thought she was going above and beyond the call of duty. And it scared her to see what Miriam would do to protect and care for them.

It really did.

She looked down at the floor space between the bed, watching Shan—she still believed his name was Shan, so she wouldn't be thinking with the name Ash—sleep. Pikachu was on his pillow. Shamin and the Pokémon had teased him a bit before they fell asleep, having Pikachu refuse to sleep next to him. Instead, Pikachu had resided by Shamin, and Shan had frowned at the action. Of course, when Pikachu thought he was asleep, she crawled down to lay next to him. Shamin had to smile when Shan, after Pikachu had made herself cozy next to him, petted her gently and smiled. He knew.

He was going to sleep in the bathtub so the girls (and himself) could have some privacy, but Shamin had talked him out of it, knowing Miriam would want a shower when she got back. She always did. Shamin made up the excuse that Miriam would have used—and she would have, too—the opportunity to turn the faucet on him.

She sighed, looking at his sleeping profile as she scratched Trigger's ear. Shan was so *** dense. He didn't even know what was going on, or, if he did, he didn't let on. Shan had that aura of innocence around him, something that *** as Hell wouldn't break. He had idealistic dreams—of course, she wasn't one to talk—and tried to be as friends with most everyone he met. Pokémon, especially his but he always helped her with Trigger, were more important to him than even himself. So were his friends. Shamin thought that was a dangerous trait to have at times, and a very noble one too.

She ran a soft finger over his cheek, and brought back a wisp of hair that was out of place. He was truly asleep now and made no motion—aside from a slight twitch from his eyelids—to show that he felt her. Why'd he have to be so damn cute . . . and all that other stuff?

Over an hour she had lay looking at his profile in the dim lighting. Pyro, waking periodically to wait for Miriam, had watched her stroke his cheek with his blood-red eyes.

The door was slowly opened, and Miriam walked in like a burglar. Shamin said nothing as Miriam went into the bathroom and took long shower. Steam came out from under the doorway.

Miriam emerged nearly a half-an-hour later, walking into the room dry and naked. If Shan hadn't been around, she would have gone to bed that way, but now she covered herself with a long sweatshirt of Shamin's. Pyro stretched and went to the end of the bed, looking up at her. She smiled down and gave him a friendly pet.

"I told ya not to wait up for me," she murmured, sitting on the bed. Pyro leaped onto her lap.

Shamin looked down at Shan again. He was still asleep, as was Trigger. Both could sleep through a rock concert, but at least Trigger had an excuse. "Couldn't sleep," she replied, stroking his cheek.

Pikachu had woken up during Miriam's arrival and watched Shamin because she had nothing better to do.

"Chuka?"

"I'm all right, Rodent," Miriam sighed, laying down on the bed, not under the covers. She watched Shamin. "They're like angels when they sleep, aren't they?"

"Some."

"Yes, some," Miriam agreed quietly, petting Pyro "He's a good kid."

"Um-hm. He is."

"Cute too."

Shamin blushed even in the darkness. "Yep."

"He'd treat ya right, just so ya know. I know he would."

"He doesn't even know I'm alive," Shamin countered sadly.

"Looks that way, doesn't it?" Miriam nodded, scratching Pyro's ear. "So why bother with him? Go after someone else. No need riskin' the friendship ya already got goin'."

Shamin raised her head to look at Miriam in the dim room. She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it when nothing came out. She focused on Trigger instead.

"Have ya even told him ya like him?" Shamin only shrugged, looking back down at the boy.

"Of course," Miriam mused, rolling onto her back. "If ya did, he'd probably wouldn't click on what ya said. Ya'd have to _really_ spell it out." She chuckled. "Men are such idiots."

"Tale!" Pyro whined.

"Except ya," Miriam cooed, picking the fox up. "Ya're smart and clever and cute and sweet."

"And arrogant, and vicious, and spiteful," Shamin added with a smirk. "Like Trainer, like Pokémon."

Miriam grinned at her, and Pyro showed his fangs good-naturally as she brought him back to the bed.

"Maybe." She looked down at the sleeping Ash again. "But, really, what are ya gonna do?"

"What would you suggest?"

"Simply goin' up and tellin' him. Of course, having to tape his mouth shut first. But, then again, it wouldn't click," she sighed. "Ya'd have to do something that Blondie'd have a very hard time _not_ understandin'." She whistled. "That in itself is a chore."

Shamin rolled onto her back and looked at the ceiling. "Thanks a lot."

Miriam smiled. "Don't worry, Hon. He can't be stupid and blind forever."

"Wanna bet?"

There was a pause from the other side of the darkness. "Actually . . . no."

****

Shamin wasn't terribly surprised that when she woke the next morning that the room was empty except for Trigger chewing on one of Shan's shoe. The curtains were pulled open, a very nasty habit Shan had, letting the early light land on her face. Yawning, she pushed herself up and practically rolled out of bed, her legs barely stopping the fall. One of these days they would run out of time, she knew it.

Rubbing her eye with the heel of her palm, she staggered ungracefully over to the bath. _Man_, she thought sleepily, _I have to get more that three hours of sleep. Maybe like twenty should do._ Shamin grinned at the thought and, yawning again, pushed open the door and entered.

She stopped with a jolt, sleep gone.

"Hey!" Ash yelled, hastily wrapping a towel around his half-dry body, a deep blush overcoming him. "Don't you know how to knock!" he asked severely, growing redder by the minute.

Her own cheeks started to redden, and Shamin quickly ducked out the door, shutting it soundly. "Sorry, Shan!" she yelled, trying to hold back the laugh. "I thought you guys left!"

"Well, I didn't!"

"I said sorry!" By now she couldn't hold back the laughter, leaning heavily against the door.

"Why are you laughing!" Shamin laughed even harder, unable to answer. "It's not funny!"

Tears were streaming down her face as she listened to him, at the worried pitch in his voice. "I'm—" She couldn't finish.

The door behind her opened and Ash stuck his head out, his blond hair plastered to his head and water dripping down his face. His cheeks were still red as he clutched the towel around him.

"Not! Funny!" Then he slammed the door. "Oh, crap!"

Shamin looked down to see the edge of the towel stuck in the door. With a quickness she had when she knew she could cause trouble, she opened the door and stuck her hand in, holding the towel. "I think this is yours," she said demurely.

The towel was snatched from her hand with a snarl, and Shamin barely had time to save her hand as Ash slammed the door shut. Then she laughed hysterically. Trigger looked up curiously, giving his cute "Gra?"

A sudden thought stopped the laugh in her throat.

"Don't think like that," she muttered, the blush creeping up her neck and cheeks like a thermometer on the rise.

Even still, Shamin mused on the thought that if she had only opened the door a little bit sooner, or had just stuck her head in when she handed back the towel . . .

Feeling like it was a little warm in the room, Shamin opened the window.

_Ooooh boy_.

****

"What's with ya two? Ya're so quiet," Miriam asked, looking at the two young adults on either side of her. They were both very quiet as they walked down the street, and they seemed to be avoiding each other's gaze. Miriam wondered what she had missed.

"I mean, don't get me wrong, I _like_ the quiet. First time ya two haven't been arguin' as we walked," Miriam continued, getting no response from either of the two. "Well, what do ya think, Pyro? Something's wrong with 'em, huh?"

Pyro didn't answer because he really didn't care as long as Blondie was quiet.

"Pikapi?" Pikachu asked from Ash's shoulder, also curious as to what was going on between the two friends. She should have stayed in the room instead of getting something to eat with Miriam.

"What's that?" Ash asked suddenly, looking for any distraction he could find. He nodded towards a large gathering of people and brightly colored tents. And some rides.

"Looks like a fair!" Shamin said gleefully. "Can we go, Miriam? Can we? Please?"

"We can't!" Ash countered. "We have to get to the next League!"

"Oh, come on! Just one day!" Shamin pleaded.

"We have to—"

"Shan! It's one day!"

Miriam smiled, pleased that the two were back to their old selves, and brought an arm around both their necks. "I think we should go."

"Miriam!" Ash complained.

"I out-vote ya," she stated plainly. "I out-vote both of ya. We go."

"How can you out-vote me if I'm on your side?" Shamin asked.

"Don't get technical."

"But Miriam! My training!" he whined as, while Shamin's neck was freed, Miriam placed him into a headlock of sorts and started to drag him over to the grounds. "This hurts!"

"Ya ever hear the sayin' 'All Work and no Play'?" Miriam asked conversationally, ignoring Ash struggle.

"_Miriam_!"

****

"Don't make me glue that butt of yars to the chair," Miriam said as Ash fidgeted in his seat near the back of the tent.

"This is boring," he whined. "I should be—"

"Pretendin' to be trainin'," Miriam finished, and Ash glared at her. "Ya wanna go up?"

His face reddened, and Ash sank low in the seat. "No."

"What, big tough Trainer won't go up and do Karaoke?" she teased.

"I can't sing," he muttered. Pikachu nodded her agreement from under his chair.

"Pi."

"Neither can any of them," she countered slyly.

"Isn't this fun?" Shamin asked gleefully, plopping down a seat in front of them, laden with food. "Here's some cotton candy, a hot dog, and this soda stuff, I think."

Miriam looked the pink cloud and pulled off a small piece to give to Pyro on her shoulder. No one ever saw him, for he blended in almost flawlessly with her hair. "Where'd ya get it?"

"Counter," she responded, giving Pikachu a bit of her caramel apple. "It was just sitting there."

The white-haired adult nodded approvingly while Ash paused in mid-gulp while eating his hotdog. "Ya might as well finish it. They ain't gonna want it back now."

Ash frowned but, after a moment, continued eating the meal. "We do have money, ya know," he said reproachfully after he had finished.

"If we spend it, we won't have any," Shamin stated, bored of the familiar argument. "Just think how much we would have lost if we had actually paid to get—"

"Shh!" Miriam snapped, slapping her hand over the other's mouth. "We can always get kicked out. We're supposed to have stamps on our hands or somethin'."

"I must have washed my hands," Shamin said innocently. "I'm a terrible neat-freak."

Miriam snorted, leaning back in the chair. "Yeah, right." Then she winced as some unknown singer (and one who would stay, thankfully, unknown) _attempted_ to reach some god-forsaken note.

"Ouch."

"Why don't you go show them how it's done?" Shamin asked teasingly, pick-pocketing some of the cotton candy.

"Oh, be nice to these people. Like they want to hear—OW! Dammit, Pyro!" Ash snapped, holding his scorched hand. Lucky, only a few people heard him. The rest of the people were covering their ears.

"Serves ya right."

"You really got to train him!"

She smiled evilly. "What makes ya think I haven't?"

Ash snorted and crossed his arms, looking away from the girls. "We should be going to Ossature," he muttered.

Shamin rolled her eyes. "Go up, Miriam," she urged.

Miriam looked thoughtful for a second. "Ya know, I think I will. Ya guys know what a chanteuse is?"

"A singer?" Ash guessed sarcastically.

Shamin looked at Miriam for confirmation. "Well?"

"Close enough," Miriam smiled. "It's my goal to be one."

Ash rolled his eyes.

Miriam leaned down next to Shamin. "Ya know, music does carry a few _messages_." Shamin looked at her blankly. The soon-to-be-noticed singer smiled and removed the Pokémon from her shoulder. "Watch Pyro. Lights make him angry."

"I wouldn't notice," Ash sulked, not noticing Shamin's still puzzled look.

"Pikapi," Pikachu scolded. "Chu pika pikachu."

"I don't want to."

"Keep Babyface put," Miriam sighed. "I'm gonna line-jump."

"If there's a line," Shamin smiled.

"If there's an audience," Ash added nastily as people around them started to file out.

"All the better," Miriam laughed as she strolled over to the stage. The former was just stepping off.

"Ya got any earplugs?" he asked Shamin.

"That is so mean." Ash's eyes didn't leave her face, and she avoided his gaze, focusing on petting Pyro. "I kinda left them at the hotel."

He sighed and sat back in the chair, rubbing his temples. "Trigger is so lucky."

"Hey, Shan, I'm sorry about what happened this morning," she said, turning to look back at him. "I should have knocked."

"Yes you should have," he snapped, the blush coming back, but he shook his head. "Just forget about it, and don't mention it. Ever."

"Would I talk about one of your most embarrassing moments?" Shamin asked sweetly.

Ash looked at her from under his bangs and brows. "I don't have to answer _that_."

Shamin smiled, setting her chin on her hands and looked at him.

"What?"

"Hmm?"

He shifted uncomfortably. "You're staring at me."

"So?"

"What for?"

"Why not?" she murmured.

Ash looked at her suspiciously. "You're not . . . mentally undressing me, are you?" he asked slowly, careful to keep his voice level.

She jolted up, cheeks red. "Don't give yourself so much credit," she snapped, turning around to face the stage. "Why would I waste my time doing that? Nothing to see."

His face reddened from anger and embarrassment, but Ash didn't chase the conversation anymore. Next time, he vowed, he was going to make sure the bathroom had a lock before taking a bath.

Pikachu looked between the two and gave a quizzical, "Chuu?"

"It's nothing, Pikachu," he muttered.

The mouse seriously doubted that but didn't see the point of chasing the question's tail as it ran in a circle.

Pyro sat up rather proudly on Shamin's lap as Miriam took to the stage. She seemed to have a rather evil smirk on her face while the lights balanced on her. The screen behind her slowly blinked to life, and she juggled the microphone between her hands.

The audience sighed and waited for the next wannabe. The music started up slowly, and Miriam tapped her fingers and boot to the beat.

"Country?" Ash whispered to Shamin.

"She is a country girl at heart."

"Oh. Well, she wears the boots for it."

"Katie's sittin' on her ol' front porch, watchin' the chickens peck the ground. There ain't a whole lot goin' on tonight in this one horse town. Over yonder and comin' up the road, in a beat up Chevy truck, her boyfriend Tommy is layin' on the horn, splashin' through the mud an' the muck.

"Her daddy says 'He ain't worth a lick,  
when it comes to brains he got the short end of the stick.'  
But Katie's young and man she just don't care -  
she'd follow Tommy anywhere.

"She's in love with the boy,  
she's in love with the boy,  
she's in love with the boy.  
And even if they have to run away  
she's gonna marry that boy someday.

"Katie and Tommy at the drive-in movie  
parked in the very last row.  
They're too busy holdin' on to one another  
to even care about the show.  
Later on outside the Tastee Freeze  
Tommy slips somethin' on her hand.  
He says 'My high school ring will have to do,  
'til I can buy a weddin' band.'

"Her daddy says 'He ain't worth a lick,  
when it comes to brains he got the short end of the stick.'  
But Katie's young and man she just don't care -  
she'd follow Tommy anywhere.

"She's in love with the boy,  
she's in love with the boy,  
she's in love with the boy.  
And even if they have to run away  
she's gonna marry that boy someday.

"Her daddy's waitin' up 'til half past ten,  
when they come sneakin' up the walk.  
He says 'Young lady get on up to your room  
while me and junior have a talk.'

"Momma breaks in and says 'Don't lose your temper,  
it wasn't very long ago  
when you yourself was just a hayseed plowboy  
who didn't have a road to hoe.

"My daddy said you wasn't worth a lick,  
when it came to brains you got the short end of the stick.  
But he was wrong and honey you are, too.  
Katie looks at Tommy like I still look at you.'

"She's in love with the boy,  
she's in love with the boy,  
she's in love with the boy.  
What's meant to be will always find a way...

"She's in love with the boy,  
she's in love with the boy,  
she's in love with the boy.  
And even if they have to run away  
she's gonna marry that boy someday."

Miriam bowed proudly as the song finished, and people actually clapped as she did so. Shamin swore Miriam winked at her.

"Okay, maybe she can sing, a bit," Ash admitted grudgingly, although he knew it perfectly well, clapping with the rest of them.

"What'd you think of the song?" Shamin asked a bit hopeful.

He shrugged. "It's okay, I suppose."

"Didn't get anything out of it?"

Ash looked at her like she was on crack. "It's a song."

"Yeah, of course."

"Hey, Miriam!" Ash yelled, standing up. "I'm gonna go get something to eat!"

"All right!" she yelled back offhandedly. "Be back in a few!"

He grinned. "Come on, Pikachu," he said, opening his pack to let the mouse leap in. "I bet they got some great concession stands."

"Pika!"

"Man, I'm hungry," he said, practically running out as he slung on the pack.

Shamin looked torn between following and not. Pyro looked up at her, almost interested in what his fate would be. "You wanna follow him?"

Pyro snorted in disgust.

Miriam suddenly appeared and gathered Pyro into her arms. "Get lost and have some fun." She winked. "We'll hang around her for a while. Just behave."

"Thanks, Miriam."

She smiled watching the younger dodge the crowds, then looked at Pyro. "If anyone asks, ya're an automatic toy, right?"

Pyro yawned as he climbed her shoulder and closed his eyes.

"There's a good boy," she cooed.

****

Shamin looked frantically through the crowd, trying to move past the jostling crowd. "Where is he?"

There wasn't any sign of him, and Shamin growled in frustration.

"All right, if I was Shan, Heaven forbid, where would I be?" She snapped her fingers. "Food stands, of course, and actually in line to pay for the artery clogging treats."

With this enlightening information, Shamin headed down the stall line, and then up the next, down the following, up the next.

"How many frickin' stands are there!" she snarled, walking down one now. "Too many, dammit!"

****

She sat heavily on the bench, her feet sore. This fair was too big, and she hung her head in exhaustion.

"Shamin?"

Her head snapped up in surprise, eyes wide. "You! I've been looking all over this frickin' place trying to find you!" _I look all over this place for an hour, and he finds me when he probably wasn't even looking! Damn him!_

Ash looked at her blankly, munching on a hotdog. A bag of cotton candy hung from his belt, and Shamin could see Pikachu peeking out of the pack, also eating her own cotton candy. "What for?"

Shamin threw up her hands in annoyance and sat back after grabbing the bag from his belt. "'What for?'" she snarled, munching of the stuff. Confusion dotted Ash's face as he sat next to her.

"Wanna go on some rides?"

"_Which_ rides?" Shamin had a great distrust of carnival rides. They usually ended up freaking her out.

He shrugged, wiping his hands on his pants as he stood up. "Come on," he said with a lopsided smile as he extended a hand. "Let's go."

She took it after a moment. "You'd better not throw up on me, that's all I have to say." He grinned at her as they headed towards the endless sea of thrill rides.

****

"That was a waste of time," Ash muttered as they stepped off the platform. "You can let go now. We're on the ground."

Shamin, even paler than usual, slowly opened her eyes and detached herself from his arm.

"Why didn't you tell me you were afraid of heights?" Ash asked as she clutched the railing.

"I didn't think Ferris Wheels went that high," she murmured.

He chuckled. "It was a cool view! If you hadn't had you face buried in my arm you would have loved it!"

"No." Shamin took a deep breath. "You shouldn't have rocked the chair!"

"I didn't rock it, did I, Pikachu?"

"Chu," she said, sticking her head out of the pack. Sometimes, if she stood still, she could look like a toy.

"Yes, you _did_!"

"No, see, when we stopped, the momentum caused the chair to rock back and forth," Ash explained. "Now if I had rocked it—You know, you shouldn't have screamed so much."

"I didn't scream!" she snapped. "I whimpered!"

He grinned. "Loudly."

"And my eyes weren't closed the whole time," Shamin continued. "I opened them a few times."

Ash leaned up against a fence. "You really have to conquer your fear of heights."

"I'm not afraid of heights!"

"Then go back up there. I dare you!" he challenged.

"Double dare me and you got a deal!"

"Double dare!" he said, throwing out his hand with a laugh.

She took it without thinking, and what she was doing didn't hit her when her hand was moving up and down. Shamin paled.

"Gonna back out?" Ash asked slyly, seeing the color leave her cheeks.

"No! Come on!" she said defiantly, gripping his hand and dragging him back to the line.

"You don't have to do this," Ash said after a long few minutes passed, when they were near rising seat of the Ferris Wheel.

"I'm not afraid!" she practically screamed. On-lookers in the line looked at her curiously, some giving themselves a few more ionches of space away from her.

He held up his hands. "I never said you were."

Shamin looked at him severely, twirling her hands nervously. "I'm not. I can do anything I want to."

Ash rolled his eyes, then bowed mockingly as their ride descended. "Ladies first."

"Jerk."

He laughed as he sat next to her, slinging off his pack to lay at their feet. Pikachu leaped out and stood behind their legs. Heights weren't her favorites as well, but Pikachu liked the view very much.

"Now you have to keep your eyes open," Ash grinned as they went up. "Open them."

She whimpered as they jerked to a stop to let the next person on. "How high are we?"

"Twenty feet," Ash guessed, then sighed. "Come on, Shamin. Open them."

She shook her head wildly as they started up again.

He lowered his mouth to her ear. "Chicken," he whispered evilly.

"Am not!" Her eyes didn't open.

Ash squeezed the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. "What should we do, Pikachu?" The chair shuddered to a stop again.

Pikachu looked up at the frighten girl who was clutching to bar with a death-grip. "Chu ka pikachu, Pikapi," she shrugged.

"You're helpful," he sighed.

"_Don't rock the chair_!"

"We didn't." Ash shook his head. She was even more scared than last time, and now it was more annoying that funny. "Shamin . . ."

"_What_?"

He brought his arm around her shoulders, squeezing her comfortingly. "Open your eyes. You're gonna miss the view."

"_I don't care_."

"Shamin. . .," he murmured, gripping her chin and bringing it up so he could look at it, at the tightly squeezed shut eyes and pale face. "Look at me. Look at me, not the ground. _Look at me_!"

Her eyes slowly opened as she bit her bottom lip in a whimper at his authoritative tone. His brown eyes locked on hers, so calm and full of power.

"Good," he smiled. "Now don't look down. Just look straight past my face. Look straight."

Her eyes darted past his face after a few long moments, and she could see the background falling, so she looked back quickly on his face.

"Oh, come on. Look a little longer," he coaxed, turning his head to watch them rise up again. "Look."

She turned her head slowly, clutching him and holding her breath, then biting her lip to keep the scream down as they rushed back down. She whined in fear, but a dwindling fear.

"Hey, look, you can see the carousel," Ash said, pointing out.

Shamin followed his finger, squinting. "Where?"

He leaned forward to see if her eyes were actually open, and smiled when they were. "Right there, next to the yellow tent, see?"

Her eyes glowed, and she leaned forward. "I can see it! Look!"

Ash laughed, pulling her back. "Sit down or you'll fall."

Shamin looked down as they rose back up, gulping. Then she smiled, turning her head to smile at Ash. "I bet I could spit on that bald guy down there."

"That's disgusting! Don't you dare!" Ash scolded looking down. Horror struck his voice. "My God, you could hit him." She laughed, and after a moment Ash joined in. "Don't!"

She sat back in the seat, leaning against Ash. He wrapped his arm around her again, enjoying the ride and company. Shamin looked at him and smiled, snuggling closer. He didn't notice.

****

"We don't need our pictures taken," Shamin complained as they went into the booth, Pikachu sleeping in the pack.

"Yes, we do. Momentoes."

"You got a camera. We don't need any of these little photos. They ain't even in color."

Ash grinned at her as he fished out some quarters from his pocket. "Just look pretty and smile."

Shamin sighed, crossing her arms and slouching back as he pushed the touch-panel. It was almost closing time for the fair. "We have to meet up with Miriam, you know."

"Don't worry. We'll find her," he grinned. "Eventually."

She bit her thumbnail. "Thanks."

He turned his head to look at her. "For what?"

"Ya know, the Ferris Wheel," she said softly. "Thanks."

"Hey, you said it yourself."

"What?"

"You ain't afraid of anything. You do whatever you want." He sat back. "Smile."

The light flashed. "Almost anything," she murmured.

"What?" he asked, turning to look at her as the light flashed again.

Shamin looked up into his face, summing up her courage. "Look, Shan . . . I have to tell you something."

He was the picture of innocence. "Yeah?"

"I, well, I like you," she said quickly, before she lost the nerve.

He grinned and shrugged. "I like you too."

Her eyes sparkled. "Really?"

"Of course," he said simply, another light flashing. "You're a great friend. I mean, I can't imagine how this trip would have been if you hadn't come along. Me and Pikachu would have gone batty traveling alone."

She rolled her eyes. "No, no, that's not what I mean. I mean, I . . . I _like_ you. "

He looked at her confused, raising his eyebrow questioning as the next light flashed. Then he looked at the computer as the paper printed out the paper, rather disgusted. "Oh, these suck. You weren't even looking at the camera."

She narrowed her eyes. "Shan . . ."

"Come on, this time look at the screen," Ash ordered as he put a few more quarters in the screen.

"You think I should program for more pictures so you have time to get it right?" He smirked at her.

"I don't care, but Shan—"

"Doubles, then."

"_Shan!_"

"What?"

"Didn't you hear me?" she asked sharply.

"Say what?"

She gritted her teeth in anger. She had just told him she liked him, and he didn't even realize it. The . . . the _Jerk_!

Ash shook his head at her. "You're confusing. Now smile, okay, and _look_ at the screen." He laughed as he turned her head to the screen.

The light flashed once. _This calls for drastic measures_, she thought, angry adrenaline in her veins at his stupidity.

"Shan," she said sweetly.

"Yeah?"

With agility and speed to match any Pokémon, Shamin brought her hands up and gripped the sides of his face, pulling him down to an open-mouthed kiss. Ash's eyes shot open in surprise and shock, and he went ridged, his body refusing to move. His mind froze. Then, suddenly he tried to push her away, to give himself time to think. This was _crazy_! When Shamin wouldn't budge—she was stronger than she looked—he started to move back, ending up pressed against the wall, then the screen, the other wall, everywhere. Panic was etched in his features.

Shamin kept the kiss going, feeling him tried to break away. _You will get this!_ she thought as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

Finally she pulled away, she looked at him savagely. "Now do you understand?" she whispered, pushing herself away from him.

If she was pale, Ash was bleach-white. His eyes were wide as saucers, and he looked at her like she was a ghost. "Shamin . . ." His lips moved in confusion.

Shamin couldn't believe it. He still didn't get it! Tears in her eyes, she turned away and quickly left the booth.

It took Ash a while to find his voice and collect his thoughts, and he took the papers from the computer printout with eyes unseeing. Then he gripped the pack, touching his lips, and pushed back the curtain. "Shamin!" he yelled.

There were few people milling around these last few minutes of the fair, in the darkness. Shamin wasn't one of them, not that he could see.

"Shamin!"

"Pikapi?" Pikachu asked sleepily, and a tad sickly. Too much fair food on her stomach.

"Pikachu! Help me find Shamin!" Ash ordered.

She nodded instantly, then sniffed the air. It took a minute for her to pick up Shamin's scent, and she pointed. "Chupi chu pika pi!"

"Thanks!" Ash said, running in the direction. The motion of the pack made Pikachu sicker.

"Chu . . ." she moaned, hanging out of the bag.

Ash didn't notice when something wet hit his shoes.

****

She clutched her knees, looking at the pond water shimmer as the moonlight hit it. He didn't even understand that! If that didn't work, what would? She bit her lip and refused to cry.

There was a very small rustling sounded almost ten minutes later. "S-Shamin," Ash's timid voice called.

Shamin ignored him, focusing on the water.

"Shamin?" he tentatively called again, coming closer as he pulled out a twig from his hair. He set his pack down, and Pikachu, still not feeling the best, looked at them sickly. He knelt down slowly and touched her shoulder. "Shamin?"

"Just go away," she whispered.

"No. Shamin, we have to talk."

"About what?"

"About . . ." He faltered, finding he had no words to explain what he wanted to talk about. "Shamin."

"Look, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done it." Her shoulders quaked. "I just couldn't think of any way to make you understand. You're so dense."

"One to talk," he countered softly. She laughed half-heartedly.

"Maybe. So what are you going to do?"

Ash was quiet, unsure of what to say. "I . . . I don't know," he admitted after long minutes. "Shamin, look at me, please."

She stiffened and didn't move.

"Please."

She did so slowly, turning her whole body, then raising her head to look at his face last. She met the same confused face as before.

Ash looked at her, her cheeks wet. "I . . . don't know, Shamin," he admitted.

"Know what?" her voice hoarsely whispered back.

"I don't know if, if I _love_ you," he said quietly, avoiding her gaze for a moment. "I like you, and I don't want to lose what we have right now." He touched her hand gently.

"I know."

He smiled, then ran a hand through his hair sheepishly. "I'm afraid, okay? I, I don't know what's going on or what to really do. Ya know?"

She laughed, looking away. "I'm sorry."

"No," he said hard, and she looked back surprised. "Don't be." He blushed. "I mean . . . well, I don't know what I mean. Man, this is happening so fast." He ran his hand through his hair again.

"We can slow down," Shamin said quickly.

"Even if I know you can kiss like that?" Ash joked weakly.

She blushed, but looked him in the eyes.

"You know," Ash said slowly, tilting his head and leaning back on his legs.

"Hmm?"

"You've got really nice eyes. They're so . . . _blue_."

"Thank you. Your eyes aren't that bad either. They're very brown," she smiled.

"No." He brought his hands on either side of her face, and seriously studied the azure orbs. Shamin shivered under the gaze. "They're really big and sweet. Angelic, sort of. And pretty."

She touched his hand, and he brought them down quickly. "Really?"

He nodded. "Oh, yes, they are."

"Thank you," she said sincerely. "Shan?"

Ash blinked at the name, suddenly feeling guilty that he had lied to her for so long. "Shamin, I—" She silenced him when she placed a finger against his lips.

"Shh."

He looked at her Angel-Stolen eyes and his words melted.

His heart was beating frantically and slowly he moved forward. She moved forward as well. When Ash felt his lips touch hers, it was like an electric current was passing through him, and he quickly pulled away.

He could feel his cheeks red, but he smiled at her.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" Shamin whispered.

"No," he admitted sheepishly.

They came closer again, and this time Shamin touched his hair with her hand.

There was a flash!

They pulled away and looked at the source.

Pikachu was grinning as she stood on the camera. Her eyes were wide and wet like she was crying. "Pikapi ka Chupi pikachu. Pi chu chu!" she sniffed.

Ash laughed at her and her words. "You're sappy!"

Pikachu smiled at them, and both Ash and Shamin looked back at each other. "We'll go slow," Shamin whispered, kissing his cheek. "Now let's go find Miriam."

"Yes," Ash whispered kissing her hand, grinning like a dork.

"Now who's sappy?" she teased. He laughed.


	16. Chapter 15

**Chapter Thirteen:**The Other Woman

"I caught it! I caught it!" Shamin yelled excitably, clutching the Pokéball and hugging Ash tightly. "I caught—what's it called again?"

Ash gasped, trying to breathe, but laughing at the same time as he held her away at arm's length. "A Bellsprout, Shamin." He beamed at her. "You caught your first Pokémon. What do you plan to do next?" he asked in a mock TV reporter sort of way.

She smiled slyly. "Oh, wouldn't you like to know?"

"Ah . . . no." He bent down and started to congratulate Trigger on his first _successful_ battle. There was hope for the pup, although he had to look at Shamin more often. Still, considering how young he was, it was very good.

Twisting her mouth into a pout, Shamin turned away from him, holding the Pokéball in her hands and ogling it. "Totally cool. My, well, it's not my first Pokémon, ya know." She sounded like some of the novelty was wearing off already.

"First capture," Ash pointed out as he pulled up to walk alongside her, allowing Trigger to walk on at their side. He knew better than to run off after getting lost for a few days. "My first capture was a—"

"Where's Pikachu?" Shamin asked suddenly in order to bypass his nostalgic car crash.

Ash whirled his head around. "She was here just a minute ago," he muttered, slightly surprised that she was gone. "Pikachu! Hey, buddy!"

Pikachu bounded out of the bushes and stood off to the side. "Pika?"

"There she is!" Shamin said, gripping his arm to turn him around.

He smiled at the mouse as they walked over. "Look! Trigger won! And Shamin caught her first Pokémon! Isn't that great?"

"See?" she said proudly as they knelt down, brandishing the Pokéball in front of Pikachu. Trigger looked especially pleased, although he really didn't know why. He just knew he was a _very good_ dog today.

"Guess she's not as hopeless as I thought, huh?" Ash teased, giving Pikachu a wink.

Shamin frowned and banged him on the back of his head. "Hey, hey, hey!"

Pikachu looked at the two disgusted as the pushed each other playfully. A frown overtook her usually cheerful features, and barely noticeable bolts escaped her cheeks. "Ka!" she spat.

"Pardon?" Ash asked, turning his attention back onto her while Shamin let go of his hair.

With her eyes narrowed, Pikachu turned smartly and ran back into the bush.

"Hey! Pikachu!" Ash yelled, jumping up. "Come back!"

"What's wrong?" Shamin asked, worried. Pikachu never just took off like that. "Is she all right?"

With a worried expression on his face, biting his bottom lip, Ash tilted his head unsure. "I don't know. Something's bothering her, and I have to find out." With that, he ran into to forest calling, "Pikachu!"

"Hey, wait for me!" Shamin yelled, pocketing her Pokéball, returning Trigger (as they hadn't covered Trailing in his training, and he'd be more of a nuisance), and following. "Pikachu! Where are you?"

****

Pikachu purposely ran away from the voices calling her name, doubling back and slipping past them easily. It made her sick, sick deep down inside.

What was she sick of, might one ask?

_Them_.

She was sick of being around them, of being with them, of listening to them, of talking with them, sleeping next to them, training with them, traveling with them . . . The list just goes on and on.

Don't get Pikachu wrong one where this is going. Pikachu wasn't sick of Pikapi or Chupi, oh, no no no! Never that. She wasn't sick of Pyro or Chuka either, if that's what you're starting to think. They may have gotten on her nerves a bit, but they were okay, for the most part. No. What she hated was _Them_.

Pikapi _**and**_ Chupi.

Ohh, she hated, how she could think of them as just one word—_Them_. It made the electricity in her body build right up to her ears and down to her tail. It shouldn't go like that, no no no! It shouldn't. It should be Pikapi and Pikachu as Them, with Chupi, Chuka, and Pyro as the add-ins. Not with her and Chupi's roles reversed.

"Chu!" she spat, running up a hill to sit at the peak.

It was so confusing. She liked Chupi, she did, but now it was like the girl was stepping over some line, some line she couldn't cross in Pikachu's mind. Pikapi was _hers._

"_Oh, great! I'm starting to think like Pyro!"_ Pikachu moaned. You can't just own someone, Pikachu believed. True, some Trainers might disagree, saying that Trainers owned their Pokémon, but Pikapi wasn't like that. They were friends, friends to the end.

Pikachu sat on her hunches and looked over at the forest, still hearing the calls for her. Part of her wanted to obey the order, but the stubborn streak—something she had picked up from Pikapi—in her wouldn't allow it. No, she'd sit right here until they figured out that she was upset.

She nodded with affirmation, but part of her—the part with common sense still working—brought up the point that they wouldn't know what she was upset about. _Well, they should_! she thought savagely. If they were any kind of Trainer and friend, they'd know. Pikapi'd know. Yeah, he would, for certain.

_Yeah right. Maybe if a house landed on him,_ part of her thought savagely. _He didn't even notice I was missing._

Pikachu shook her head, ears banging her cheeks, and ran on trying to understand her problem.

If only she could just tell Pikapi . . .

_No_! _He wouldn't understand_, she thought with bitter sadness.

She stopped at the base of a tree and climbed up to a branch. What vendetta did she have against Chupi being with Pikapi?

That she shouldn't be with Him. Pikapi was hers! Hers, hers, hers! Not . . . Chupi's.

"_But why not?_" Pikachu moaned, holding her head in her paws.

This wasn't right. She wasn't a territorial Pokémon by nature, like Pyro. Hell, she wasn't even Male, like Pyro again. ***, he got all the excuses for being a *** to Pikapi, and she got none to be one to Chupi! It wasn't fair!

When had this change of thought and heart come about? At first, Pikachu had been unconcerned that Pikapi and Chupi were "an item", as Chuka put it, for the past few weeks, even thought it was cute. Hell, they weren't even that, Pikachu added. Aside from the time at the fair, they acted no different—no kissing, no not fighting or whatever (which would have been nice, for now they fought more then ever), no being overly nice to the other. It was like both had reached a mutual agreement they yeah, they did like each other, but they weren't going to go further because they didn't know what to do next. The furthest they went was to hold hands, and even that they did rarely. True, they slept a little closer together, Pikachu put in, but it wasn't like they were in the same sleeping bag. Wasn't that part of being "together"?

She whimpered with confusion. Human mating habits were too weird for a simple Pokémon like herself to understand completely. Did they have seasons? Why was it okay to do one thing here but not there? You could touch someone here but not here without getting slapped, but then again you could and not get slapped by the same girl. It didn't make sense!

Pikapi was at the age when he started to sexually mature, Pikachu could tell. There was a different scent to him. Well . . . not different, exactly, but like there was an addition to his old scent, one that told of the happenings in his body. (Did that tell females he was, at least sexually, mature? Could they smell it like she could?) He'd act funny too, staring at women and girls like Brock had, although thankfully not nearly as bad. He was still shy around girls, probably more apt to run away or fight with one than woo and swoon one.

Pikachu wasn't sure where Chupi was in maturity because she hadn't known the girl long enough, but there was the slight smell to her as well for a few days. She wondered if Pikapi smelt it.

The mouse sighed. Pikapi was happy, and Pikachu should be happy that he was happy, but she wasn't. She wasn't. She was confused and upset and jealous.

Jealous . . .

It wasn't like Pikapi spent more time with Chupi. The time he spent with the girl was the same as before, and he didn't give Chupi any terrible amounts of attention. And he didn't ignore Pikachu either. She did not feel neglected, not in the least. Pikapi was always there for her, for everyone.

But then there was . . .

Pikachu sat up straighter.

It was his eyes.

Pikapi now gave Chupi the Look, the self-same look he had always given her and only her before. And now Pikachu shared that look with another. That unsaid source of devotion, of loyalty, of compassion, of blasted all Love.

Little bolts of lighting escape her cheeks as she thought of it. That was her Look. She loved that Look.

Pikapi had such nice brown eyes. They were an unlimited source of power. They were special. They showed that he really was the most compassionate Trainer in the whole world.

Eyes really were the window to a person's—or Pokémon's—soul.

Pikachu settled down slowly. Was this how Chitorika felt when she was jealous of Ash and her? Had she wanted the Look from Pikapi that only Pikachu had been allowed to?

It wasn't fair. Pikachu wanted the Look back to herself. She really wanted it back.

Tears welled up in her eyes, but she didn't let them fall.

She'd have those eyes back to herself, she vowed defiantly.

****

Pikachu dashed into the campground and stood next to Ash's pack.

"Tail," Pyro sneered by way of greeting, and Miriam looked up from her cooking. It was a tad sad that she was the best cook they had. True, she was no Brock, but at least Miriam had an attention span longer than ten seconds and liked food normal people actually ate when they weren't drunk.

"Hey, Rodent," she smiled, brushing back her hair. "They're lookin' for ya." Pikachu merely looked at her with innocent eyes. "Didn't notice? They been lookin' for over an hour."

"Pika ka pikachu—"

"Enough," Miriam sighed. "I'll let them look and yell themselves hoarse. Watch the food while I get some more wood, all right?"

Both Pikachu and Pyro nodded, and Miriam strolled away.

"_You didn't hear them?_" Pyro sneered. "_Come off it, Rodent._"

"_Believe what you want_," Pikachu muttered getting closer to the fire.

Pyro looked at her with narrowed red eyes. "_You're a terrible liar, like Blondie._"

"_I don't practice lying like y—"_ She stopped, aware that he had her. Pyro looked smug.

"_You don't. And you don't use your head_. _So what _were_ you doing?_"

"_Nothing. Just thinking_."

"_Same thing with you_," the fox said, walking over to sit next to her. He studied the mouse, unconsciously summing up the best way to attack her for his dinner. Of course, Pyro wouldn't. For one, Pikachu was a lot stronger than she looked. Then there was the idea that why eat Rodent when there was stew, which tasted _almost_ as good. Thirdly, Miriam would disapprove highly, and Blondie would be rather upset (like that mattered to Pyro). And in the last place, he wasn't interested in a chase . . . at the moment.

The fact that they were friends never crossed Pyro's mind.

"_Yes_?" Pikachu asked.

"_What?" _Pyro asked innocently, not taking his eyes off the fire.

"_What do you want?"_

Pyro chuckled grimly. "_I don't want anything._"

"_Sure you don't_." Pyro made no comment to counter, and they both sat in silence. "_Pyro?_"

"_Yes, Rodent?_"

"_Speaking hypothetically_—"

"_But mostly pathetically_." That was typical Miriam humor.

"_Ha ha, no. Pretend we're all drowning except Chuka. She could only reach one of us. Who would she save?_"

Pyro tilted his head and looked at her. "_Why do you ask?_"

"_It's a simple question_," she answered, avoiding the question. "_Who would she save?_"

His tails flicked. "_Shamin_," he said with certainty.

She blinked in surprise. "_Why do you say that? Why not say you?_"

"_Because I would not need rescuing,_" he stated in his self-assured, cocky voice._ "Blondie would rescue you, and only Shamin would be left."_

"_No! Pretend we're all unconscious or hurt and can't save ourselves! Who would he—she save then?_"

Pryo looked at her. "_Well, I suggest we don't go swimming any time soon to find out, yes?_"

Pikachu nodded in agreement without thinking. "_You don't believe she would save you?_"

"_I am not foolish, Rodent_," Pyro said softly, looking back into the heart of the fire. "_In either choice any of us make, we will deal with the consequences as they come. Miriam would not be satisfied with any choice she made, but she would save one of us, that is sure, even at the cost of her own life. All of us would."_

She nodded again in agreement.

"_But_," Pyro continued. "_If this hypothetically situation ever came up, then I would hope Miriam would save Shamin._" Pikachu perked her ears up.

"_Why_?"

"_Because, Rodent, I refuse to be the reason Miriam would lose a dear friend. Better to lose me, a mere pet that she will most likely outlive anyway, than a person who is like family, whom she sees as family. A pet is not something to choose over a friend."_

"_But you are her Friend! Not just a . . . Pet . . ."_ She didn't actually finish the sentence, the words sinking in her head. Were they all just pets?

He chuckled humorlessly. "_Rodent, we are Pokémon. If and when_"—he said "when" like he knew the time would eventually come, and Pikachu shuddered—_"the choice comes, they will save their own before they save us. They _will_ protect their own. We are friends now, but never lose sight that we _are _just Pokémon to them._" He flexed out his claws, razor sharp and deadly. "_I would, if roles reversed and I was the savior, save Miriam, maybe even if she ordered me not to. Yet I do have reservations about her actions_." He looked at her_. "What did bring about these rather depressing thoughts, Rodent?"_

Pikachu shrugged, looking at the flames. "_Nothing in particular_."

He chuckled again, almost sadly. "_You do better to tell the truth. You have a very dishonest face during a lie_."

"_I don't lie_."

"_Ah, very true. A lie is only the trust in a different light, albeit sometimes no light._" His nostrils quivered_. "You're worried. I can smell it on you. But about what, I pretend to wonder?_"

Pikachu smiled slightly, turning to look at him. "_Only pretend_?"

Pyro ignored the statement. "_Do not treat me as stupid or blind. Your faith has wavered_."

"_Pardon_?"

His fangs glistened. "_Normally you would have said something against what I have said, that Blondie wouldn't do that. You haven't. You are beginning to doubt what you were once so sure of_."

"_That proves nothing_."

Pikachu hated Pyro's next chuckle. It was so conceited, arrogant, mocking, and assuming all at once. The Devil would laugh like that, and her ears lowered. "_Does it now_?" he mused, snapping his tails against her back and making her sit up straighter as he stood up and turned. "_A piece of advice, Rodent, now that your foundation has cracked and the river of Doubt seeps through at an ever-quickening pace. Move your village to higher ground, or you'll lose everything when that dam breaks._"

"_Quite the poet_," she snapped.

"_I am one of many talents_," he agreed with false-modesty. "_But, it is true. Now that you doubt Blondie's loyalty to you, I hope you do nothing so foolish that you actually do lose it._"

She turned her head quickly, eyes flashing at his tone. How could he actually think she was going to do something? (_That didn't come out right._) She opened her mouth to scold him for such an innuendo, but no words came out when she ended up meeting his blood-red eyes. He used no Glare attack on her, and in the back of Pikachu's mind wondered how strong that attack would be if he could freeze someone when he didn't use the attack. It would turn them to stone or putty.

_"You speculate, most likely falsely. Maybe you are over-reacting over something terribly silly, which you probably are. But, if it is true, I suggest you accept it. You cannot change it, and running away from him will not help this cause_."

Pikachu watched as he turned around and walked into the forest's darkness.

"_And Rodent?_" he added before the darkness stole him away.

She found her voice. "_Yes_?"

"_Before your village floods, make sure it was not for a falsehood. That will be terrible price to pay when a population of three-four-whatever years is given up for dead_. _Quite the headline, I would image_."

****

Pikachu sat in silence after Pyro had taken off. _Oh, what does he know anyway?_ she thought angrily.

_Actually quite a lot_.

She sighed, shaking her head. So now, thanks to that talk, she doubted Pikapi. She hadn't doubted him before, but now—thank you, Pyro—she did. Pikachu whimpered. She felt sick.

Would Pikapi rescue her . . . or Chupi?

So deep in thought, Pikachu barely noticed Miriam's arrival. "Still hangin', Rodent?" she smiled. "I see Pyro probably got hungry."

Pikachu smiled at her, watching at the woman placed logs in the fire and stirred the thick broth.

"I suppose maybe I should call them for supper," Miriam laughed as she scooped herself a bowl, and then one for Pikachu. "But I'd hate to interrupt their search and quality time."

"Ka," Pikachu said lowly, blowing on her stew to cool it off.

Miriam paused in mid gulp and looked at Pikachu. True she hardly understood Pikachu-nese, but she knew a few terms and it was largely based on tone and content. (Face it, if you can only say your name, there can only be so many combinations to use. Miriam mir mir am!)

"Something wrong, Rodent?"

Pikachu raised her head and looked at her with innocent eyes. "Chu."

"Really?" she asked skeptically, raising an eyebrow. Pikachu kept up her charade, and Miriam didn't continue the questions now, dining on her meal. Yet her green eyes studied Pikachu closely.

The mouse found she didn't have much of an appetite and only ate a few mouthfuls of the delicious meal. Then she laid down and looked intently at the fire, transfixed by the dance it displayed.

She jumped terribly when Miriam's soft and gentle hand touched her head, traveled down her spine, and up her tail. "Ya okay, Rodent?" Miriam asked gently.

Pikachu nodded her head and looked back into the fire.

Miriam pressed her lips together and carefully picked up the mouse. Pikachu went up like a doll, limp and bored. "Only time people stare at fire for so long and so intensely is if they have somethin' on their mind, or nothin' at all. Which is it for ya?"

_The former,_ Pikachu thought vaguely, closing her eyes under Miriam's hand.

"Feelin' all right?" Pikachu shrugged at the question and snuggled closer against Miriam. _At least someone cared . ._ .

Miriam sighed and sat up against a tree. "Somethin's wrong, I know it." Pikachu made no comment. "Blondie and Shamin are probably worried 'bout ya."

No reaction from Pikachu.

"They're kinda cute together, don'tcha think? A little shy, I suppose, but better than havin' 'em jump each other's bones." Miriam grinned. "Just image havin' to dump cold water on em every night. But they're sweet couple. Don't act like it though. Think they were brother 'n' sister the way they carry on." Miriam kept her voice at a very soft gently-floating-down-a-river tone, one that slowly unnerved a person, changing them into putty to be molded and manipulated.

"Course, they have that Look, ya know."

At that Pikachu nodded ever so slightly, but Miriam felt it.

"Young love, ya know. I like the sheep eyes Shamin casts at him. Been doin' it forever, course, since he managed to tail her. Got one of them worship thingies, and Blondie does have the face to fall for. But it's nice that it's actually being noticed."

Miriam ran her hand over Pikachu's ear. "Of course, just because Blondie and Shammy are together, that doesn't mean he doesn't like ya any less."

Pikachu sat up like a board, shock on her face. Then she tried to look innocent.

"Oh, don't play coy with me. Ya're jealous, plain as day. Can't see why though." Miriam poked her in the stomach, then scratched her head. "Blondie's about as fair as they come. He ain't gonna forget 'bout ya."

She made a face at Miriam's ditty. "Chu pika pikachu Pikapi ka—"

"Don't talk. Don't understand ya anyway, so don't talk," Miriam ordered. "Listen. Whatever's been botherin' ya, get off the high horse and deal with it. Distancin' yarself from Blondie ain't gonna help the cause. And don't get any ideas 'bout messin' with him. Ya'll regret it."

"Chu?" Pikachu asked quizzically as Miriam set her down.

"Understand, Rodent, he's happy now. Course, he always is, but that's not the point. The point is that if somethin' happens between them two, he ain't gonna be very happy. And if he finds out ya had somethin' to do with it, he ain't gonna be to pleased with ya. I've seen it happen. Been part of it." She rolled her eyes at the memory.

Miriam stood up and looked at Pikachu, who tilted her ears in confusion.

"Ya're gonna have to share him eventually, everythin' about him. He won't stay young forever, and he'll meet someone he'll like a lot, that'll make him happy. But now here comes the doozy of a problem."

Pikachu leaned forward to hear it, for Miriam spoke like she was divulging a secret.

"When the time comes, and it will because he cares a lot for ya, when he asks if ya like her, and ya don't, but he does—a lot—do you sacrifice your happiness for his? Because he would drop the girl for ya. That he would, and don't ya ever kid yarself about that. So how do ya choose?" Miriam turned and walked back to the fire.

She paused, blinking her eyes slowly. "Chuka, pikachu pika kaka?" Pikachu asked, coming up to Miriam.

"Silly Rodent," Miriam smiled, not understanding the parallel question proposed to her.

****

_They were just plain nosy and presumptuous. What did they understand?_ Pikachu asked the darkness from behind her eyelids.

A lot. Both of them knew a lot. And they were wise enough to see her problems. But they couldn't solve them. Only she could.

Pikachu had mused on the idea of allowing Chupi to meet some sort of _accident_, or on how much electricity the Human body could survive. But Pikachu was not a cold-blooded murderer, in these circumstances. Not in any circumstances she could imagine.

She curled into a tight ball in the nook on the branch. It was a bit into night. Chuka had fallen asleep, but Pyro was still out hunting. Even he wasn't a murderer, though he killed other Pokémon. He did it for food, although he had no need now and rarely did so.

Funny that a Pokémon who kills other Pokémon is not a murderer, like when a Human kills a Pokémon, but a Pokémon who kills a Human or a Human who kills another Human is, she mused.

Pikachu heard a small sound and opened her eyes to look down. The fire was still alive, and she squinted into the forest. Pikapi and Chupi would be returning soon.

It was them, both dirty and exhausted. Shamin was already asleep, being carried on Ash's back piggyback style. She was terribly light, Pikachu admitted, undernourished and probably way under what should be her body weight. Many thought she was anorexic, and the pale, thin face she had did little to help convince people that she shouldn't be in a hospital. Too many years—even with the Tunnel "meals"—on the streets took their toll on her appearance. Even Miriam was thinner than what she should be, although she did look healthier than the younger, but not by much.

Pikachu saw that Ash looked ready to drop, but he carefully set Shamin down and covered her up with her bag. Then he carefully looked around the campsite, going over to his own bag. His shoulders quaked when he didn't see what he longed to see.

"Pikachu," he whispered hoarsely, running his hands through his hair and clutching the strands. Pikachu watched, fascinated, as he opened his bag and searched for something. She leaned forward to see what it was as he withdrew his hand.

A flashlight.

Grimly Ash clicked it on, and she saw his face: damp cheeks and tired, worried eyes. Carefully he stood up and headed back towards the forest.

"_Are you going to let him go?_" a voice whispered in her ear.

Pikachu jumped and turned around to see Pyro next to her. She couldn't find words.

Pyro strutted on the branch, circling her. "_I've been following them. All he did was worry about you. She tried to calm him down, but he was in hysterics as it continued. Even when he was hungry he didn't come back_._ What does that say to you?_" His tails surrounded her as he circled, for it was a thin branch and he had to walk extra close to her to get around. "_I'll tell you. He cares about you. He was going to let her go back to camp and continue looking, but she said that was dangerous. And it is. He only came back because it is dark and Shamin was too tired to continue, as you can see. He needed a flashlight_."

His tails seemingly tightened around her like oppressive air, making her unable to breathe.

"_It's dark out there, Pikachu_," Pyro said quietly in a dark voice. Later, Pikachu would remember that he called her by name, making this confrontation more like a debate with her own conscience. "_He's tired, crying, and hungry. There are many dips in the fields, and this is wild Pokémon territory. He doesn't have his Pokémon—they're in his bag, remember? He's helpless. Worst of all, he's desperate and scared. They can smell that._"

"_Stop it_!" Pikachu cried, covering her ears and trembling.

Pyro came closer, baring her fangs at her. Pikachu suddenly became aware of how easy it would be to kill her now, and the terror increased. "_Are you scared? You should be. He wouldn't be back in the morning if he continues that way. The signs are all there_."

"_What—what signs_?"

"_Have you ever met a Lupenni_?"

"_A what?_"

"_A very dangerous Pokémon. Travel in packs. Dangerous when hungry. Attack the weak. There's a pack over that way, with a litter. Even more dangerous. They're in the caves about four miles away_." Pyro walked down the branch. "_Most likely he won't get that far, probably fall from exhaustion, but they are great distance travelers, hunt at night too. I'm not fool enough to go against them, not when I'm this big._"

Pikachu looked at Pyro with wide eyes. Even though Pyro was nowhere near the size he should be, he did not let that dictate his actions. If he was afraid . . . "_Pikapi_."

"_I'll see you in the morning, Pikachu. But remember, he went looking for_ you. _Sleep well with that_." He leaped down and strolled next to Miriam, lying next to her and closing his eyes.

Pikachu was down the tree and after Ash in a second.

Once Pyro couldn't hear her any longer, he opened his eyes and chuckled. "_Sucker_."

He stretched and yawned, a satisfied smirk on his face. _There. Now I have done my good deed for the . . . um, let's see, decade, maybe. Yes, decade will do._

****

Ash staggered, forcing his eyes to remain open. She had to be around here somewhere. She might be hurt . . . or worse. He gulped. It was all his fault. He did something to upset her and now she was gone. Ash blinked back the returning tears. "Pikachu!" he called as loud as he could, but his voice was hoarse and it was barely louder than a whisper. "Pikachu! Where are you?"

Pikachu easily caught up with Ash, as he was too tired to keep up a good pace. "Pikapi!" she yelled, leaping. He turned slower than she was used to, but Pikachu managed to gather herself into his arms.

"Pikapi!" she cried, tears flowing.

"Oh, Pikachu!" he gasped, hugging her tightly, crying as well as he fell to his knees. "I was so worried about you! Whatever I did, I'm sorry! I'm sorry! But you came back!"

"Pika kachu Chupi pikachu pika!" she sobbed in a rush.

"It's okay," Ash murmured holding her tighter, not totally understanding the onslaught of rapid sobs and hiccups. "It's okay, buddy. Everything's all right."

Pikachu looked up at him with wet eyes, and he looked at her with those special eyes, forgiving and kind. "Pi?"

"Of course."

She leaped up and hugged his neck, nuzzling against his face. "Pikapi . . ."

Ash smiled, shakily getting to his feet. "Let's get to camp and get some sleep."

"Pika," she agreed quietly, not letting go.

"I was really worried about you," he murmured sleepily, walking slower. "You took off like that and everything."

She nodded, not listening to the words but the sound of his tired voice. Look at the pain she had caused him . . .

It took longer for him to get to the camp, but he finally made it, collapsing onto his sleeping bag. "Pikachu, I'm sorry," he said softly, pushing himself up onto his elbows. His eyes were fluttering closed already.

Pikachu shook her head. "Chu. Pi chu Pikachu."

He smiled, shaking his head and gave her a scratch behind the ear. "The Trainer is always responsible if his Pokémon runs away or disappears. I hope I can make it up to you." He sighed, lowered himself down, and closed his eyes, almost instantly falling asleep.

Pikachu looked at him in shock. It wasn't his fault! "Chu, Pikapi," she moaned.

"Hmm. Yes. My fault."

"Pikapi! Chu pika pikachu!"

He yawned, curling into a ball. "My fault . . ."

Pikachu almost started crying again. He thought he was a bad Trainer. _She_ was a bad Pokémon, putting her needs and happiness in front of his. "Pikapi." Her voice trembled. "Pikachu pika pika chu ka."

"Good night, Pikachu," he sighed from within his sleep, smiling slightly.

_I forgive you._ Why did she say that? It was _her_ fault. He should have to forgive _her_.

Because he needed closure, Pikachu thought as she covered him up and petted his hair, bringing it away from his eyes. Even if he was wrong, he needed to know that it was over with.

He blamed himself.

It was her fault.

She laid next to him, crying silently. She'd never forgive herself for this. She'd make it up to him, somehow. He was a good Trainer, a good master, a good friend. And she'd share him with whomever he wanted to be shared with, because he deserved it. And she owed it to him.

Pikachu licked his cheek. "_I'm sorry_."

"_He knows that."_

She jumped again at Pyro's interruption. He was lying next to Miriam and had watched the entire scene without interruption.

"_Do you think he doesn't understand you? He knows it was more you than him, but he will take that blame because it is his responsibility. You are his charge."_

Pikachu looked away from him, from all his answers of the world. "_It's not right_."

His tails made an interesting pattern. Some of the more civilized individuals might consider them offensive, but the fact was Pyro only did then to stretch muscles or to fight boredom. He didn't know that he was making offensive gestures—not that he'd admit _that_—until Miriam informed him. In any case, Pyrohad that rare, special knack and ability to control each one of his nine tails separately, varying between making intricate patterns and rude gestures. "_You know he'll blame himself if either Miriam or Shamin, or even me, died, because they came with him. It doesn't matter if they did it themselves. They came along with him. He will take responsibility for them. Like he does with you._"

"_But—_"

Pyro sighed, looking at her with his red eyes. "_Listen. Some Trainers probably blame everything on their Pokémon and not themselves. Those are the ones that need the most help. If someone is willing to take the blame for someone else, they are a strong person, and the smartest. It never is always the other guy's fault, but neither is it always yours. But by saying it is yours, you are making a vow never to let it happen again. He won't let you leave again_."

Pikachu was silent. "_It won't happen again_."

"_Your Trainer has played a guilt trip on you_," Pyro smiled. "_He is a crafty devil. For an idiot_," he added smoothly.

"_He is not an idiot_!" Pikachu snapped, jumping up at his barb and ready to hurt him for such words.

"_He's not!_"

"_Oh, no, he isn't_," Pyro agreed softly, looking at her with his red eyes that all but froze her to the spot_. "But __**you**__ are. Don't make this mistake again, Pikachu. Don't. I won't help next time._"

"_Thank you, Pyro_," she said quietly. Pyro pretended not to hear, but Pikachu didn't repeat herself. Instead she looked at Ash. His eyelids were moving as he dreamed, hiding his pretty eyes.

Pikachu had to wonder if Pyro was correct as she laid back down. Did Pikapi really believe it was his fault, or was he covering for her?

Had it been before these months, before these talks, she would have said because he really believed it was his fault. But now . . . was he just protecting her?

She bit her lip. Her Trainer, the one she was supposed to know inside and out, was starting to become a mystery to her. Why? Was it her fault, or his?

If he was his, was he doing it purposely? Did he want to be a mystery to her, to make her wonder?

_No, Pikapi wasn't like that_, Pikachu thought firmly. No, it was, if not her, something else, something stronger than both of them together.

The whole point of training was to know your Trainer, and for him to know you. It couldn't be the training or battling. It must be just her, Pikachu decided. She had been selfish, and it clouded her judgement. That was all.

Even with the belief, Pikachu shook and huddled tightly to Ash as if to protect him, looking defiantly into the darkness. And if she was wrong about it being her fault, well, there'd be no more of that by whatever it was that was causing it.

_**POKÉDEX**_

Lupenni—the Loyal Pokémon:

A pack Pokémon, Lupenni have gotten a very back rap over the past centuries. They are friendly and shy, not bloodthirsty killers, and do not stand much of a chance against hunters looking to seek their soft pelt, which can blend into any woodland background. They are common only in areas of low Human population and are strong family units. [return]


	17. Chapter 16

**Chapter Fourteen:**Archaic Danse Macabre

"Oddish odd?"

"Yes! Ya _are_ odd! Now stop followin' me!"

"Odd odd!"

"Go away, ya green soccer ball or I'll kick ya!"

Shamin came running up with Trigger at her heels, yipping excitably. "Miriam, what are you yelling at?"

Miriam snarled, her back against the tree. "Get this cauliflower away from me!"

"Oddish!"

"Go _away_, ya stupid veg-ible!"

Shamin blinked, halting Trigger with a signal. "So that's why you were screaming bloody murder? Because some Oddish is bothering you?"

"That thin' is scary!" Miriam snapped, watching the plant jump up and down excitably. "Its 'oddish, odd' and crap!"

"Miriam! It's a nice Pokémon!"

"Just get Trigger to whip its leaves!"

She looked unconvinced, and worried. "I can't have Trigger battle it."

Her friend gave her a withering look, loathing the possible excuse that would come. "Why not?"

"Well, Shan's not here to help me."

"Aren't ya his Trainer?" Her face was twisted in an angered exasperation.

"Well . . . I only got the hand signals down. You know, fire—"

"Don't show me!" Miriam screamed, seeing that Trigger was watching the hands obediently, prepared to demonstrate his ability to follow them right at her.

"Why n—oh yeah. Trigger's a good boy, isn't he?" Shamin purred, kneeling down to pet the attentive Growlithe.

"Gra!" he yelped loudly. He never had understood what his Trainers—he viewed Ash and Shamin as both of his Trainers, neither over the other—meant by barking quieter, and now neither of them made the sign as much. They simply brought a finger to their lips, which he understood to mean as "No Bark."

"Shh, Trigger," Shamin said, shhing with the sign. He instantly quieted.

"Good," Miriam nodded in approval. Trigger had a hair-trigger when it came to barking, and anything that could get him to shut up quickly was a plus in her mind. Especially when she was out of aspirin.

"Shan's idea. Trigger couldn't understand the loud signs."

Miriam shrugged. "Don't care. Just wipe the Oddity."

"Oddish?"

"Miriam, I'm not fighting that. I don't know how high a level its at, and I want Trigger to start small."

Her jaw dropped. "_That_ is small!"

Shamin looked at her. "So are Pyro or Pikachu, but I'm not sending Trigger against one of them!"

Miriam frowned, then made a face as the Oddish walked closer and started to rub against her leg. "Where's Blondie?"

"Checking out the caves," Shamin informed her, throwing back her head in the general direction. "He says there's an entrance around there. I think it caved in, myself. I mean, he's crawling in these really narrow spaces." She shuddered. Shamin wasn't claustrophobic, but she saw no _need_ in getting into spaces _that_ _tight_.

"So ya won't send Trigger out without him around?" Shamin nodded, and Miriam took a very deep breath.

****

Ash kept his hand against the wall of the cave as he crawled through the narrow cave, flashlight pinned to the ground ahead of him.

"Pikachu?" Pikachu asked in a whisper, coming up from behind him.

"Nope," he sighed, turning his head to smile to smile at her, then beaming his head on the ceiling.

"But I'm only on the third cave. Funny, I do go faster when Shamin and Miriam aren't around." He grinned, rubbing his head and feeling the ceiling. "Maybe we should try and capture an Onix."

"Pi?"

"It'd really help out with the caving. One, it'd make them taller. My knees are killing me."

"_BBB-LON-DEEE!_"

Ash sighed and looked over his shoulder back at the exit. That wasn't a Blondie-I'm-in-Trouble yell. That was a Blondie-Get-Your-Ass-Over-Here yell. "Should I go, Pikachu?" He grinned mischievously, crawling more into the cave ever-so-slowly.

Pikachu was just about to answer when Miriam answered for them. "_YYY-ESSSS AS HELLL YOUUU __**SHOOOOOOULD**__!"_

"How does she do that?" Then, shaking his head as he circled himself, he started back out of the cave. They were right. Women always seemed to get men trained better than Growlithes. Look, he was already crawling . . .

****

Pyro arrived before Ash and ran up next to Trigger. The pup was bigger than him, but that didn't bother Pyro, for the fox _knew_ he could take him. Trigger, pleased to see one of his family, nipped him pleasantly. It wasn't a very nice nip, because the puppy never heard another Pokémon's yelp of pain, not that _Pyro_ yelped in pain. Pyro took it upon himself to teach the dog by "nipping" back and meeting pressure. It was a method, despite Shamin's protests, that was working. The bites were getting lighter. Now if only they could get it through the pup's thick skull that everyone did _not_ want to play when he did . . .

"Pyro's here," Shamin said, glaring at the fox as she tended to the Growlithe's wound, for the pup was whimpering a bit. Pyro ignored it. He knew the puppy was only milking it for attention. The fox had done the exact same thing under Ash's supervision and the puppy hadn't put up nearly as big of a display—and Pyro had bitten harder. It seemed that while Trigger was willing to act semi-helpless under Shamin's care, under Ash's _sole_—that part was important—training, Trigger wanted to act tough like the boy's other Pokémon. Trigger had watched Ash fawn over his Pokémon when they won a battle for him, and Trigger had discovered Ash would only pay him that kind of attention if he was tough like the other Pokémon. It didn't matter if he won, just that he had done well.

"Pyro, attack this plant!" Miriam ordered smugly, confident that Pyro could beat it easily.

Pyro blinked slowly at her, then looked at the Oddish. The Oddish looked back. "Oddish?"

"Pyro," Miriam said warningly. Pyro continued to study the Oddish. "Pyro?"

Shamin grinned. "It's your own fault for not training him."

"Shows what ya know. He's . . . summin' up the competition."

"Right," Shamin grinned.

In fact, Pyro _was_ summing up the Oddish. Crazy as it was, Pyro never met an Oddish before, let alone battled one. Why would he want to eat a veg-ible anyway? He liked meat. Pyro was no expert in battling Plant-type Pokémon, and he knew it. And he did not jump headfirst into a battle. Pyro learned that jumping headfirst could mean never jumping again, at least with a head.

"Hey, Trigger!" Shamin yelled as Trigger, despite his "wounded" leg, ran off.

"What's wrong, Miriam?" Ash asked, suddenly strolling up, smiling as Trigger leaped playfully around him. He was literally covered in mud from those caves, although he didn't really mind as he peeled of the bandana that held his hair out of his eyes.

"Would ya kindly remove this thin'?" Miriam growled, glaring at Pyro, who was still studying the plant. "Since a certain little fox ain't gonna." Pyro looked up.

Ash grinned, walking over to scoop the tiny Oddish up. "Don't be so hard on him, Miriam. He looks like he's never seen one before. Hey there, little guy," Ash cooed at the Oddish, tickling it.

"Oddish!" it smiled.

"You mean I could have just picked the thing up?" Shamin demanded.

"I shouldn't see why not? I mean, he looks like a friendly little guy, aren't ya? Have a look, Trigger." He bent down to let the puppy examine it. Pyro also came closer, slowly.

"Pikachu pika!" Pikachu laughed from Ash's shoulder, seeing the fox's hesitant behavior.

"Nine!" he growled.

"Easy, Pikachu," Ash smiled, seeing that Pikachu was poking fun at Pyro's lack of knowledge. "This is an Oddish." He spoke to both the fire Pokémon, although more towards Trigger than Pyro (for sack of fox Pride), making a sign he would forever be designated to remembering as "Oddish", for Trigger's sake.

Trigger happily sniffed the leaves, causing the Oddish to giggle, then staggered. "Grr?" he slurred.

"What happened?" Shamin demanded, rushing over.

"He just probably got a bit of stun spore," Ash explained, watching as the pup shook his head to clear the effects. "A _very_ mild dose. He'll be okay. Want to see, Pyro?"

"Odd!"

Pyro glared at the plant. _Stun spore, huh? What other nasty little surprises do you plants hold_? He growled, and the Oddish shook fearfully.

"Sure, now ya act tough," Miriam sneered at Pyro. He didn't respond to her barb. "Ya never saw one of them? I thought _everyone_ had." Miriam dimly remembered them ruining her sandbox garden, something she had spent several days on and was really proud of. And then those little sprouts walked through it!

"I only assume he hasn't," Ash said quickly, seeing the fox's fur bristle. Actually, he was pretty sure Pyro hadn't, given the fox's behavior, but if Pyro felt his pride had been damaged, there'd be no living with him. Not that the girls had anything to fear, but Ash felt he certainly did. "It's just that you never had him battle before, and he's come to expect the fact that he doesn't _have_ to battle. You're so against it and all. You did bring it on yourself, Miriam."

She grunted her agreement, then frowned. "I'll have ya know, he has battled under my command."

"But you were in like danger of dying," Shamin put in. "The Oddish didn't look like he was hurting you."

"Whatever," Miriam sighed, picking up Pyro and walking away. "It would have been an easy win for Pyro anyway."

"Oddish!" Oddish cried, leaping from Ash' hands and running after Miriam.

"Hey!" Ash yelled. "Come back."

Miriam turned her head and saw the Oddish back at her heels. "GET IT AWAY!" she wailed.

"Odd odd!" it cried, jumping up and down.

"WOULD ONE OF YA GET IT AWAY FROM ME!" Miriam screamed.

"Miriam, it's cute! Why are you screaming?"

"I'm sorry, but I HATE VEGIBLES! Get AWAY!" She tried to kick it, but missed.

Ash shook his head, looking down at Trigger. He brought his thumb out like he was hitchhiking, pointing it at Oddish. It meant, "Wanna Battle?"

"GRROW!" Trigger yapped in a high pitch, so high that Ash winced and Pikachu almost lost her place, leaping around excitably.

"Shamin, get over here and battle with Trigger!" Ash ordered. He wanted Trigger to accept her as his Trainer and not so much as him. So far this system hadn't been work working. If given a choice when they tried dual commanding (to deal with distractions), Trigger always obeyed Ash's commands over Shamin's, always looked at Ash first instead of her. Of course, Trigger went to Shamin if he wanted something. He chose which Trainer to obey when it suited his needs, and Ash didn't like that. At such a young age, even now at only half a year by Ash's estimate, Trigger was picking up bad habits.

Of course, it wasn't all Trigger's fault, Ash admitted as Shamin ran over. Shamin didn't like to battle alone, and she wasn't a Battler. She didn't like to hurt the other Pokémon. Shamin only liked raising them, as did Miriam, although it was getting clear to Ash that Miriam was getting **very** partial about which ones she'd even touch. They'd be great for Pokémon shows, but in Pokémon competitions both would be eaten alive in the first minute. Part of Ash was slowly coming to realize the different types of Trainers around him. Having traveled with Brock, Tracey, and Misty, he had always, truth be told, been under the impression that Trainers were . . .well, Trainers, for lack of a better word. They wanted to battle and win using their Pokémon. But Miriam and Shamin, they had given him a glimpse of Trainers who may like their Pokémon to be strong, but held no special love to win. Well, as Miriam would point out, everyone loved to _win_, but they saw no need to go out on a limb to go to a competition.

Still, Trigger had the passion and talent for battling, as did Pyro. Ash admitted it was too late for Pyro learn to battle. One, because his Trainer wasn't a Battler. Two, he was already very old (for training, because he was so damn stubborn!). Three, he didn't quit. True, that was a good trait, but Pyro took it to the extreme, because he saw it as the extreme. Ash had seen Pyro battle wild Pokémon at dangerously high levels compared to the fox, and he saw the fear in the prefect stance, execution, and attack. Pyro was too afraid of losing against another Pokémon because he was afraid of being killed. He wouldn't understand that the Pokémon in the League wouldn't kill him, and Pyro would fight to the Death of the other Pokémon before he'd stop. Under League rules, he could he shot on the field. Yes, Pyro held promise, but not under a Trainer's hand. It was under his own paw. Or maybe not . . .

"Ready for battle, Trigger?" Shamin grinned, raising her hands like a boxer. He grinned his puppy grin, and she jabbed. "Go!"

"We shouldn't have used that signal for Starting," Ash muttered, thinking they were going to have a problem when it came time for Trigger to meet a Fighting type.

Trigger leaped and Tackled the Oddish, batting it away like it was a ball. It rolled away, crying. "Oddish oddodd!" Then it jumped up, a frown on its features. Waving its leaves, it let out a powder.

"Umm . . ." Shamin paused, wondering what it was. Trigger also stopped to watch, and it was all Ash and Pikachu could do not be ram their heads against the ground.

"Shamin!" he hissed.

"Oh, yeah. Trigger!" Unfortunately, Trigger was very interested in the creeping powder and wasn't checking with them like he should. "Trigger!"

Ash groaned, grabbing a stick and tossing it near the puppy to get its attention. Shamin never remembered Trigger couldn't hear her calls. The puppy turned happily, then cringed seeing Ash's upset expression. He didn't even see Shamin's signal until Ash frowned even more, nodding at Shamin.

"About time," Shamin huffed as Trigger released an Ember attack and burned away the powder. He looked back obediently, and Shamin smashed her hand into her fist, indicating Take Down. It was one attack Trigger was especially good at.

Trigger leaped, more playing than actually attacking, and Ash made a mental note that they had to fix that. Of course, Trigger was still a puppy, Ash amended, smiling as the puppy wrestled with the plant, biting the leaves and wiping it around like a sock. And, he noted with satisfaction, Trigger did look at Shamin. Not enough, but he did.

"Let go," Shamin muttered, opening her fist. The Oddish went flying, smacking hard into a stout tree. The Oddish didn't bother getting up, and she quickly released a Pokéball to capture it. "All right, Trigger!" she smiled, giving him thumbs up.

Trigger smiled, then wagged his tail happily when Ash copied the motion. He had done _good_.

Ash took the Pokéball from Shamin. "Kinda strange."

"It's an Oddish," Miriam snapped, leaping down from the branch she had been residing on during the battle with Pyro. She said it was for own protection, but the view was also better "They got 'odd' in their names."

"No. Oddish come out more often at night. What's this one doing out during the day?" The he smelled something and clutched his nose. "What's that smell?"

Shamin and Miriam both sniffed, as did Pikachu, and none smelled anything strange. "I don't smell anything," Shamin said, petting Trigger.

"It's—ugh!—like dried Gloom!" Ash said disgusted. Then he looked at Miriam. "It's _you_."

"What?" she demanded.

"You smell like a Gloom!"

"I do not! I'll have ya know this is good perfume!"

"I like it," Shamin smiled, sniffing the perfume Miriam had bought. Yes, actually bought.

Ash made a face, giving Shamin back the Pokéball. "No wonder it was following you, Miriam. It probably wanted to mate or something."

Miriam smacked him on the back of his head, then sneered at the dirt on her hand.

****

"Find Pikachu," Shamin signed—her hand as a visor over her eyes for find/search, and then using her fingers to portray Pikachu's long ears—then watched as Trigger started to sniff for Pikachu. Ash said Trigger had to work of trailing, and that she was to practice while he searched the caves. She hadn't put up much of a fight. Who wanted to go in yucky, dirty, dark caves anyway?

When he had said they'd have to go through caves, images of grand caverns with limestone columns and those gigantic stalactites and stalagmites had filled her head. Her sights sorely fell when she saw that these caves weren't like this scene. In fact, most of the caves constituted of crawl-ways, and you couldn't actually stand fully erect in the "bigger" rooms.

Trigger found Pikachu relatively quickly, for Pikachu was the warm-up. Yipping happily, Trigger leaned against the tree until Pikachu fell from the tree from the sheer pitch of his barks. She frowned at the puppy, signing "shh!" He listened, then waited for Shamin to come up.

"Okay, find Miriam!" She only did that as a joke, for Miriam hated being part of Trigger's training. He always got under foot. (Miriam was signed as an "m" on either side of the head, as Miriam had big hair.)

Trigger took off, then started yipping instantly. "Go away!" Miriam yelled as he bounded up against her, muddying her clothes. "Find Shamin!" (Shamin was signed as an "s" going down the side of her face, indicating Shamin's long bangs.) The pup immediately took off, although only a few feet, for Shamin was already next to him.

Shamin smiled. "Now for the test. Find Pyro!" (Pyro was simply making her forefingers and thumb look like two eyes and bringing them up to her face. The fox had a mean stare.)

That would take Trigger a long time. Pyro always made a point now of trying to lose Trigger, mostly because it was very fun for the fox to sit in one tree and watch as the pup circled another tree nonstop, following the trail the fox had conveniently left. Trigger liked to play, and Pyro did not, at least not Puppy Games.

Trigger sniffed the air, then bounded off. Shamin smiled, watching him go until Miriam said softly, "Ya know, I'd follow him. Because Pyro is right above me." As if to prove her point, Miriam pointed up. Pyro grinned down. Shamin groaned, then followed. Why hadn't Trigger smelt him? The fox was right above them!

"I tole ya the perfume would work," Miriam grinned. Pyro smiled, then yawned. Now he could sun himself in peace.

****

Ash bathed in the river, washing out the clay dirt he had gathered from the caves. Rubbing the soap against his arms, he knew he was missing something. The entrance to Ossature was right around here, he knew it. He just had to find it. He sighed, ducking his head to remove the grit, then stayed under to look at the bed of the river, smooth as polished granite, but in reality a type of limestone. The water was really clear. He picked up a few pebbles and resurfaced. He was out deeper, up to his shoulders.

A sudden noise made him turn his head, and Trigger came bounding at top speed over the rocks and fallen trees. Ash wrinkled his brow. _What's with him_? He watched as the puppy started to circle the water's edge, sniffing for something. Whatever it was, Trigger couldn't find it, and it seriously upset him as he circled the back a fifth time. Ash grinned, betting he was trying to find Pyro.

With a smile, Ash threw back his arm and tossed a pebble. It splashed lightly in front of Trigger, who jumped from surprise. Ash ducked a little in the water, watching as Trigger studied the water. He threw another pebble, allowing it to land just to the side of Trigger's face, chuckling as Trigger yelped, then splashed the attacking water with his paws.

Ash tossed a few more, always taking great care not to hit the puppy, which ventured more out to the water. That slightly worried Ash, who wondered if the water would hurt the fire Pokémon. Yet Trigger was showing no great distress to it, other than the fact that he couldn't blow his Ember attack as much as he'd like. (The reason water didn't bother him to any great degree, Ash surmised, was because Miriam insisted Shamin give the pup a bath every time he smelled, to Miriam, dirty. Ash could never tell.)

It took about twenty pebbles before Trigger figured out where they were coming from, and he yipped happily when Ash waved at him, diving more into the water to meet the boy. He grew immensely startled when Ash disappeared from his view by diving under the water.

"Gra? Rowl?" he whimpered, swimming in a circle. Suddenly he felt a tremor, and Trigger was immensely relieved that he could feel the vibrations in the water as Ash swam closer. It was like when he felt Ash walked on ground and he felt the tremors in the pads of his paws, only stronger now. He knew where his Trainer was. Trigger liked the water because of it.

Suddenly Trigger felt himself leaving the water as Ash scooped him up, laughing. Trigger struggled to get a hold of himself, excitably licking the boy as Ash walked them both to the shore. "You like the water?" he asked.

Trigger shook himself, wagging his tail and looked at his boxer-clad Trainer.

"Well, let's see if you can keep up," Ash laughed, suddenly taking off to jump off a boulder than went over a deep area of water. Trigger followed without delay.

Ash was surprised at how well Trigger took to the water (he fought like a demon when it was time for a B-A-T-H, seeming able to actually _read_ their lips), for Fire Pokémon rarely liked it to any great extreme or pleasure. And it surprised him at how well Trigger was able to follow his dives and know where he was going to surface. He grinned, slashing the puppy lightly.

They played in the water a bit, but Ash didn't want to over-tire Trigger. And he had chosen well when to get out of the water, for the second Trigger after shook himself off, he promptly fell asleep on a large slab of rock that jutted out over the water. Ash grinned and started to dry himself, then put on his jeans. He settled next to Trigger carefully, touching the puppy gently so the dog knew he was next to him. He watched the water swirl under them.

The water was dark blue, and it was very deep. Ash could see that the ground just dropped off into a pit.

"There he is!" Shamin gasped, suddenly staggering over a rock to see the two. The command "Slow Down" does not work if Trigger couldn't see It, she learned.

Ash grinned, turning slightly to look at her. "He's been here about an hour. Was looking for something, I guess. Pyro, right?"

"Right on one. And the fox started right over our heads!" Shamin scowled at the sleeping Trigger, crashing down on her stomach exhausted. "He runs too fast."

Ash chuckled, petting the puppy. "You're just out of shape. I could have kept up."

Shamin didn't deny it. He could have. She looked at him through the corner of her eye, at his lean muscular torso and strong arms. One had a fresh scar on it because he had taken a mis-aimed razor leaf heading for Miriam, and he had bled a lot from that, and cursed like Hell when they wrapped it up. She smiled admiringly looking at him, then looked at the water below them.

"Find anything?" she asked, a smile on her face.

Ash sighed, lying back on the rock. "Don't even start. We've been here for three days!" he complained, covering his face with his hands.

"Are you sure this place is still here?" she teased.

"Gus said it was!"

She rolled onto her side and looked at him over Trigger's back. "That guy who you said good-bye to? He was so stiff! He was like an ironing board. He probably didn't know anything and just told you that."

"Gus wouldn't do that!" Ash said hotly, glaring at her.

"You are so gullible!" Shamin laughed. Ash stuck his tongue out at her. "And so childish."

"Please, look who's talking," he countered. "You played with that Big Bird puppet."

"It was cute!" Shamin laughed. "And you were the one who got kicked out of the store for playing soccer."

Ash frowned. Actually, he got thrown out for _accidentally_ kicking a ball, which ending up doing a good imitation of a ping-pong-ball machine on several of the attendants. Of course, if Pyro hadn't rolled the ball out in the first place . . . "I was not playing soccer."

She scoffed. "Pyro wasn't even in the store." He had pleaded his case in front of a laughing Miriam.

"Yes he was." There was a soft growl in his voice, and Shamin laughed, looking at him from under her bangs. He was sort of cute when he was upset. It was like when a five-year-old can't get a lolly, and so he tries to look viscous to scare the person into giving him one. All he needed to do was puff out his cheeks.

"What are you looking at?" he snapped, blowing out his cheeks in annoyance. Shamin collapsed into giggles. "What is so funny?"

"You."

He lowered his eyebrows, then sighed. It wasn't worth it. He ran his hands over his face again, thinking about his dilemma. "I know the entrance is around here. I just don't know _where_."

"In your dreams?" Shamin tried, looking down at the water. Ash peeked through his fingers, sorely tempted to push her down into the water.

"_No_. You know, _some_ people are supportive of their traveling companions." Brock, Misty and Tracey always were, and Ash wondered why Miriam and Shamin couldn't be more like them. They halted his process, having to sightsee and go into fairs or whatever. They didn't _care_ that they had to get to this League, thoroughly content that they would _probably_ get there is they kept walking and there was no need to hurry. More than once they hadn't done any walking in a day because the girls didn't want to, preferring to laze around. He was always out-voted when he tried to get a vote to decide, even if Shamin sided with him, however rarely. Miriam said she got two votes because one of them was Pyro's. He had tried to point out that he had over 20 Pokémon who'd side with him. Miriam said they didn't count because they were always in their Pokéballs, and Pikachu didn't count because she followed Ash around indiscriminately.

Shamin grinned, looking over her shoulder at him. "And some are the reality-checks."

"And some are excess baggage!"

"And some are starry-eyed," she countered.

"And some are . . . are _you_!" Ash spat, unable to think of another counter.

Shamin raised an eyebrow. "Is that a compliment, or an insult?" she asked absently.

Again Ash sighed. He was getting a headache (from thinking too much, as Miriam would have pointed out). "Why me?"

"You're just lucky. Do you _really_ think the entrance is through those tiny caves?"

"I am looking through them, Shamin. What do you think?"

"I think you like getting dirty. I just want to know if you think you're actually going to find something."

"Yes, I do, all right?"

"You're so cute when you think like that," she cooed. He merely groaned and rammed his head into the stone, petting Trigger.

"There's got to be a cave around here. It's right next to the river." _Pity this place was flowing with rivers_, he thought sarcastically.

"Is the map you're using any newer than the others?" Shamin teased. Ash made a noise in the back of his throat and didn't answer. "Well, speaking of the river, did you know _another_ river appears a few miles west of our camp?"

"Really?" he asked quietly in an off-handed way, rubbing Trigger's ears, not quite paying attention. _Many_ rivers and trickles of rivers appeared a few miles from their camp.

"Yep. It's not as big as this one. I think this river feeds that river. See, this river probably turns into an underground river." She pointed down to the drop in the ground. "That river comes from a cavern."

_That_ got his attention. Ash raised his head and looked at her. "How do you know?"

She tilted her head at Trigger. "Pyro led us on some goose chase, a few miles worth. I had a devil of a time jumping to those rocks. What's wrong?" she asked, watching Ash stand up, looking thoughtful. Trigger woke up from the movement.

"I'd like to see this cave."

****

Ash leaned up against the stone, studying the two maps with Pikachu on his shoulder. One was really just an artist's rendering of a description (not that he had told Miriam or Shamin this) someone wrote down. Pooka and Ratwa actually had maps, but not Ossature, and Ash had done **a lot** of research, several hours of hard work. It was the kind of hard work, Mr. Steiny always said (he was an English Research teacher that Ash learned to, well, not despise, but to hate going to that class), where you _would_ actually scream "Eureka" in the library, regardless of the Silence! signs, if you even found some kind, **any** kind, of information. This was all he had found, and he actually did have to bite his tongue from saying the Latin word.

He had been following the trail on the map, a cleared out rocky terrain where no vegetation grew in real life. That left _miles_ of caves to explore. Then he looked at the topographical map, at the river, or at least the river in question, not the main river, which is where he had searching around. Yes, they were a very close match, the river disappearing for a time but coming close to joining back up with the trail. Ash grinned, folding the maps up. Finally.

(_How annoying that Shamin found it first_!)

"What are ya smirkin' about?" Miriam demanded.

"I think this is it."

"A river," she said blankly.

"This is the cave?" Shamin asked, looking up from petting Trigger.

"I think so."

"I'm gonna go swimmin' on an 'I think so'? I think _not_."

Ash sighed, blowing the bangs out of his eyes and sliding into the water, which went up to his waist. "Come on, Miriam."

Miriam glared at him. "Why?"

He shook his head, then covered his face from the big splash Trigger made when he leaped into the water. "You silly Growlithe!" Ash scolded, not bothering with the signs because he was smiling too much for the signs to be effective. He scooped up the Pokémon. "So, Miriam, you're gonna chicken out?"

"If ya're sayin' I'm more afraid than Trigger, ya are seriously mistaken. I'm not afraid. I'm just cautious."

"Whatever you say, Miriam," he grinned. "Look, you don't _have_ to come along."

"Then I won't. Ya just better come back. Are ya goin' with him?" she asked Shamin.

"One of us better," Shamin sighed, slipping in, then shivering. The water was _cold_. "Give me my dog."

"He's getting heavy," Ash grinned, slipping the dog over. Trigger whined in protest, but didn't bother to escape Shamin's arms.

"Ugh, right," she muttered, looking back over at Miriam. "You sure you don't want to go?"

Miriam grinned. "Yep."

"How about you, Pyro?" He gave her the _Look_. "O-okay, I guess not. Well, lead on."

Miriam smiled, watching them walk into the cave. In truth, she really didn't believe it'd head anywhere, and hence saw no real need in getting wet. Well, in getting wet in _cold_ water. She smiled and petted Pyro.

****

Trigger wiggled in her arms, and Shamin gritted her teeth to try and keep a good hold on him.

"He _is_ heavy! What have you been feeding him?"

Ash grinned, looking over his shoulder and pointing the flashlight at her. "_I_ feed him the Pokémon food. _You're_ the one that gives him all those treats."

"Well, how's he supposed to know if he was a good boy?" Shamin countered gruffly. Trigger _was_ heavy.

He merely shook his head, holding up a Pokéball. "Sorry, Trigger."

The Growlithe looked panicked at the thought that he was missing out on something, that he must have done something wrong, and panicked, trying to escape Shamin's grip.

"Trigger! Shan, put that away!" Shamin scolded instantly as Trigger fell into the water with a big splash. "Now he's all scared! You know we only put him in there if he's bad or we're going into town!"

Ash sighed, watching as Shamin tried to gather her puppy back in her arms, pocketing the Pokéball. "I'm sorry, but it'd be best if we put him in a Pokéball. We don't know what's coming up."

"Then you put Pikachu in a Pokéball!" Shamin said hotly. "Should protect her too!"

"Chu!" Pikachu snapped, glaring at Shamin dangerously. The girl _knew_ she didn't go in Pokéballs!

Ash frowned at Shamin as well. "No need to say that, Shamin. Look, I was just worrying about Trigger. He is a little heavy for you."

"Well, he's not going back into a Pokéball."

"Shamin, you're being unreasonable. Look, the water's getting deeper, and a bit colder, too. He'll get sick."

Shamin remained stubborn. "So could Pikachu."

"She's not in the water," Ash said pointedly, pointing at Trigger's bottom half, which was dangling in the water.

She looked down at Trigger's tail, then back at him. "Well . . ." she started slowly. "He's not going in a Pokéball unless Pikachu does, so there."

"Shamin," he started, feeling Pikachu back up on his shoulder. He would have been slightly hurt that Pikachu thought he'd side with Shamin, should he have thought about it. He wouldn't actually stick her in a Pokéball without her consent.

"Fair's fair!"

"Pikachu is _not_ going into a Pokéball!" he countered, walking over to snapped a finger at her.

"Then neither is Trigger."

"You are being so stubborn!"

"_I'm_ being stubborn?"

"Yes! Look, Trigger's too big for you to carry!"

"Then you carry him!"

"What?"

Shamin looked at him. "You heard me. You carry him."

Ash looked at Shamin, then sighed, shifting off his pack and grabbing Trigger to rest him on his back like he was carrying a toddler. Pikachu, after glaring at Shamin, had crawled down his side then leaped over to her as she grabbed his pack. "There. Happy?"

She grinned. "Yes. Now you're carrying him, and I got Pikachu. Now let's get going," she smiled, walking past him. "There's a good boy, Trigger," she cooed petting the puppy's ear. Then she petted the top of Ash's head. "And there's a good boy for you too, Shan."

He rolled his eyes, wincing under the weight of the puppy. Offhandedly, Ash raised his flashlight to look at the ceiling, at the lifeline that had created this particular cave. ***, this made more sense than climbing in those tiny, cramp caves. How many Trainers would actually go through those to get to a League? (Well, maybe that was the whole point . . .) Obviously the entrance would be bigger.

"It's getting dark, ya know?" Shamin started after leading a bit, then falling back behind Ash.

"There's an extra flashlight in my pack." He looked at her. "What?"

Shamin sighed. She had been trying to subtly hint that they should go back, but subtly was not something Ash excelled in. Obviously.

"Is it just me, or is the water getting colder?" She sighed, allowing Pikachu to climb to the top of her head. The whole cave was cold. Her breath was coming in clouds.

Ash nodded. "It is, a bit. I guess because there's no sunlight down here."

"The water is traveling faster, you notice?"

"So?"

"And it's deeper?"

He turned to look at her. "Are you trying to get to a point? You're taking as long as Miriam does, if you are."

Shamin swiped some water at him angrily. "You do know that if you get hypothermia or drown you can't compete in a League! This water is _cold_!"

"You are such a pessimist," Ash snapped. "Jeez, the water isn't that cold!" A little chilly, yes, but not _cold_.

"Water doesn't have to be ice for you to get hypothermia," she pointed out bitterly. "You worry about your Pokémon's health more that you worry about your own health. Sick Trainers can't compete."

"I won't get sick."

Shamin raised an eyebrow. "He takes after you, ya know, Pikachu?"

"Chu!" Pikachu countered, offended. She _wasn't_ that stubborn. "Pikapi pika kapi!"

"Huh?" Shamin had an idea that the mouse had placed blame on someone else, probably her, but Shamin wasn't totally sure. "Look, how far until we're at the League anyway?"

"We're in the general vicinity," Ash said vaguely, looking at the cave walls for a sign or something that could give him some sort of clue, as he was, forthcoming quote unquote, "clueless."

"Why do we give you the map?" Shamin demanded. "You can't even read them!"

"I can read them!" Ash snapped, turning rapidly and almost causing Trigger to slip from his hold. His shirt was ripped because the puppy clawed himself into place.

"RAR!" the puppy scolded shrilling, causing several rocks to tumble.

"Well, you can't understand them!" Shamin countered, removing her hands from her ears. "And you're bleeding."

"I know." Ash gripped his shoulder, pushing Trigger's head away so the puppy couldn't lick the wound clean.

"No, Trigger," Shamin snapped, giving the right sign. "He's only trying to apologize."

"Of course he is." Ash washed his hand in the water. It was just a small wound, nothing to worry about. Well, nothing _he_ would worry about. Shamin was a different story altogether as she viewed the wound under her flashlight.

"You should cover it up. It could get infected."

"Pi."

"You two worry too much!"

"No. You don't worry _enough_!"

Pikachu listened, moving her head back and forth to follow the argument, and Trigger copied. Both were right, of course, but the argument itself was very boring to listen to, although neither would drop it. That would mean they were the one who was wrong. She sagged on Shamin's head, looking at the water where Ash's flashlight fell. There was a small whirlpool made as he walked, and if they continued on any deeper, it would have made it pointless to put Trigger on his back. Actually, it probably was now.

Suddenly she perked her ears, trying to listen beyond the bickering. There was a faint sound, like pottery hitting another piece of pottery. It was a hallow sort of sound that came from the walls. Maybe it was a digging Pokémon? And there was a sound of silent water. What was silent water? Water Pokémon called any water that seemed to make in a confined space, a soft hum which non-water ears took much practice in picking up. It was called silent water because it stilled other sounds made within it.

What was it that usually came with or from silent water? Pikachu tried to remember what Lapras had said, although the young Pokémon was considerably new to the complete workings of the water. Well, usually it meant that the roof of a cave was right next to the water. Well, that would mean they'd have to head back or swim on. Another fight would ensue, one that Shamin would probably win. It looked like she was winning the current one as well, only because Ash was getting sick of carrying it on.

Yet there was something else she had said. What had it been? Pikachu pulled on her ears. Lapras had been so unsure, and Pikachu had been more interested in sunning herself than listening. Something about . . . something. Pikachu sighed, watching the raising water. They must be going down a hill.

"And remember when you fell from the tree?"

"What does that have to do with not being careful?" Ash demanded. "The branch broke!"

"If you have been careful, you won't have used that branch," Shamin reasoned smugly.

Ash growled. "Well, if you hadn't gotten your hat suck up in the tree and been such a wuss, I wouldn't have had to go up and get it. Pyro could have climbed the tree, but you didn't want to get teeth marks on it. So it's your fault I even fell."

"You never did get my hat. And that one was my favorite!"

"The wind took off with it!"

"You just have an excuse for everything," she sniped, waving her flashlight vaguely.

He frowned in the dim. "You think everything is my fault, but just so you know, I won't get in half the messes I did if you didn't do something stupid."

"_Stupid_! Well, excuse me! But I know for a fact you'd make twice as many even _dumber_ mistakes to make up for it!"

"Would not!"

"Wanna bet?"

Ash gritted his teeth. Why did she have to push the point, especially when she was so damn _wrong_?! There was such a thing as losing gracefully, and why couldn't she do it! Dammit, _he_ was right! And _she_ was wrong! Wrong, wrong, **WRONG**!

Was that so hard to understand? Ash didn't think so, but he wondered why Shamin couldn't see the logic of it. It was very easy: He was right, and she . . . was . . . wrong!

"Can't you just deal with the fact that you're WHHOOOA!" he yelped, suddenly siding as the floor dropped away and splashing into the water. Trigger made a giant splash, yelping at the suddenly freezing temperature he was plunged into.

"SHAN!" Shamin shrieked.

"Pikap-iii!" Pikachu yelled, but the cry was changed into a yell as Shamin, too, slipped on the ground when she went over to help. And, like Trigger, she, too, left her perch and crashed into the water.

They were in darkness, the flashlights dropped and shorted out. Ash wiped his head back, treading water and feeling the water splash around him.

"Calm down, everyone!"

"Shut up, you!" Shamin screeched, splashing water in his general direction. "This is all your fault!"

Pikachu scampered onto Ash's head, shaking out and shivering, while Shamin clung to Trigger.

"Everyone here?" Ash asked.

"Pi."

"We're both here, me and Trigger."

"Good," Ash sighed. "Now all we have to do is swim back up the cave."

"Right." Shamin kicked her feet, looking for the edge. Suddenly her head hit a rock, and then moved past. "Shan?"

Ash figured he must have gotten turned around somewhere along the line. "What?"

"We're moving . . . quickly."

He touched the ceiling, which was a lot lower than what it had been before. She was right (for once). "Well, so? We just swim upstream to get out."

Shamin blinked in the darkness, shivering. She didn't think you weren't supposed to swim in cold water, because it made you get colder faster, or something to that effect.

Pikachu pressed herself against Ash's head as the ceiling pressed against her. "Chuu," she moaned.

"You know, if we get into a really deep area of water, we could get sucked down," Shamin said softly.

Ash glared in the darkness. "And where did you pick up that piece of information?"

"It's not a load!" Shamin snapped.

"It's true! If you get a big hole on the bottom of a lake or river or something, the water like falls down and pulls you with it. The suction pulls you down. Or something like that, I think." It had something to do with a Charlie or Eddy or some name like that, too, but she wasn't sure what. Suddenly she paused.

"Umm, do you have any wood to knock on?"

"You don't believe that bloody superstition, do you? And if you knock on wood, you're daring it to happen."

"Are you sure? I think it's if you don't want it to happen you knock on wood." Her tone clearly stated that she believed her theory was right and his was wrong, and she'd fight to the bitter end under the idea that it was.

"No," Ash growled. "You're wrong."

"You are!"

"Pika ka!" Pikachu snapped. Damn it, it was dark, she was cold, so couldn't they just not argue for a few minutes! And who cared what knocking on wood had to do with anything. Although, Pikachu was pretty sure Shamin was right, this time, but she'd side with Ash.

"Are you sure we're swimming the right way?"

"We're swimming up-stream!"

"Just checking!"

Ash sighed. damn, he should be able to walk on the ground now. Suddenly, he felt suction from the water. _What_? _Don't tell me Shamin was right_?! he thought wildly as he was pulled down.

"I tol—!" Shamin's screech was cut off from his ears and he went down, and water was level with her mouth.

He felt Pikachu fly past him, and he wildly grabbed the water in the darkness to grab her, but missed. Rocks suddenly jutted out from all sides, slamming into him from all directions. One hit his temple, and he remembered blackness.

****

Pyro drank from the water, then watched as it flowed into the cave, too lazy to go ask for a bit of the bottled water Miriam got especially for him. What kind of idiot went into a cave like this? Well, by "like this", Pyro meant any cave, in general, that wasn't lighted with electric lights and had handrails and other conveniences such as that. Pyro had been in the other sort of caves, in the pursuit of supper, and they hadn't been that much fun. They had, in fact, been dank, dirty, cramp, and wet.

Pyro didn't like those kinds of words.

He twitched his ears, trying to hear if he could hear the four suicidal idiots. He couldn't. Pyro gave a fox shrug and climbed up a tree to lounge on an overhanging branch and gaze at the water. He could hear Miriam sunning herself. Yes, he meant hear, because Miriam was humming under her breath and listened to Blondie's MP3 player, which she was currently, and had been for the past three weeks, "borrowing". Ash still didn't know, and thought he had left it at a hotel they been residing at. At every chance, she downloaded more songs for it and saved them in her Pokédex under the title of "Pokémon Thingies". (Ash was very impressed with the size of the file, actually _believing_ Miriam was taking notes, the idiot.)

Yawning, he stretched and curled himself, letting his tails hang lazily in the slight breeze.

Sometime during his rest, Pyro became aware that he was falling, and that his tails were suddenly wet. With a start he jerked up, and noticed grimly that he was entering the cave. Pyro snorted bitterly, carefully balancing on the branch so as not to fall in and get wet. He couldn't get wet. Getting wet, getting soaked in cold water, was _bad_. He got sick and couldn't blow fire properly.

Growling, Pyro spat. Well, he wasn't going call for Miriam. She wouldn't hear him anyway. All he had to do was float down until he reached Blondie and Shamin. And _they_ would carry him back. Yep, that's what he'd do.

The branch rolled slightly, and Pyro _almost_ whined when he nosed in. He didn't because he thought someone might hear.

****

Shamin sputtered as she broke surface, efficiently spitted out of the underwater tunnel. Trigger was splashing in the water around her, whining about his bruise. Shamin could whine, too. Her arm must have been thrown out of its socket. Oww-ie!

"Pi-pika!" Pikachu sputtered, bobbing in the water on Ash's pack like some crude buoy. "Chu-chu-ka!"

"Where's Shan?" Shamin demanded, surprised to see that her feet, or at least her tiptoes, could get a purchase.

"Ka!" Pikachu whined.

"Pikachu!" Shamin scolded, looking around frantically. Unfortunately, she was not a lifeguard, but she found Ash. And thankfully Trigger had found him first and was swimming towards a shore with the boy in tow, whining incessantly. And Shamin saw why, seeing the wound and water turning red by his crown.

Pikachu leaped from her boat and started mouse paddling over sloppily, and Shamin made it over next to him in a second, helping the puppy drag the body—she shouldn't think of him that way!—to the shore.

"Damn it, Shan, don't you dare die on me!" she panicked, kneeling next to him to see inspect the wound and current condition of the boy. shit, at least he was breathing!

"Go away, Trigger!" she scolded, pushing the puppy away with more force than Shamin really meant. Trigger sat on his hunches, whining.

"Pikapi!" Pikachu cried, running over, ready to shock him awake.

"DON'T! You'll electrocute him!" Shamin screeched, slipping off her vest to wrap it around Ash's head and put pressure on the side. Pikachu looked panicked, worriedly nuzzling her Trainer.

"Pi?"

"I'm sure he'll be fine," Shamin smiled sickly, giving her one of the false-smiles people learn to hate at hospitals where doctors have to give a diagnosis as she slipped of her pack and started to dig for her Pokémon medical kit and get out the bandages.

"It's okay, Trigger." She wrapped one arm around the puppy.

Shamin wasn't sure if you could wake someone up who had been knocked out. Was it safe, or whatever? She wasn't some doctor or nurse or intern or medical student. I mean, you weren't supposed to wake sleepwalkers, but was this the same thing? Medically, she was just some idiot who was traveling with an idiot. In any case, it was probably best to let him come out of it on his own. She brought her legs up to her chin and looked around the area. She just had to wait . . .

Oh, God, not that . . .

Now that her attention wasn't 100% focused on Ash, Shamin could see that they were _still_ in a cave, one that almost matched her original idea of what caves _should_ look like, and it was still cold. She hadn't noticed until now, but it was also bright. Dimly she recalled of some kind of cave Pokémon (okay, Shamin liked to flip through the Pokédex and look at the cute pictures) that made their own light. What were they called? Glow-In-The-Darks? Glowers? Umm . . . I-Glow? No, it was a really funny name that had nothing with the word "glow" in it. In fact, it had nothing to do with glowing, come to think about it . . . It was a kind of boat or ship. Ship . . . Shipozi? Yeah, that one was it. Now that she knew what to look for, Shamin could see the layers that made up the Pokémon

The water was crystal clear, so clear that she could see the bottom, should she want to look. The river ran along the edge of the bank, and as Shamin looked around, she could see half-finished buildings further away. They might have once been complete, but under the ravages of time, they unfinished themselves. Or maybe they never were completed to begin with. It was like she was on a road or path, or something, right to them as well.

The path to the Ossature League. (***, she was becoming a poet.)

But why the Hell would they make you go through a river to get here!?

Shamin shivered, looking over at Ash, trying to make sense of the League. Trigger and Pikachu were both nuzzling him. Maybe . . . maybe the river hadn't always been here. Maybe it just came up, which would explain why no one went to this League anymore. Maybe there was a sudden storm that caused the river—maybe there was a little trickle of a river back then?—to overflow and grow to be a big river. Suddenly, a picture formed into Shamin's head. What if the Trainers at the League were inside, couldn't get out? What if they . . . died?

_Wait just a minute!_ the little Miriam mindset that Shamin had picked up screamed in her head. _**Who**_ cared about those Trainers (Blondie did _**not**_ count!)? They died a _long_ time ago. Much more important questions were in need of being asked and answered.

What if they were going to die? What if they couldn't get out! What if they starved and had to eat rocks and dead things and gross things and . . .

_Shut up, Shamin_, she ordered herself, rocking back and forth. _We are not going to die. Miriam would notice we were gone, and I have her good shoes. She won't just leave us here. Nope, nope, nope. She won't. So we're not going to die. Not going to die . . . not going to die . . . nope, nope._

Oh, God, who was she kidding?! They were going to die!

"This is all your fault!" she yelled at Ash, causing Pikachu to jump.

"Chupi pikachu chupikachu!" Pikachu scolded.

"Well, it is," Shamin wailed. "We're going to die, and it's all his fault!"

"Chu pika ka," Pikachu said gently.

"How are we going to get out, huh?" Shamin snapped. "We can't go the way we came, against that current."

Pikachu nodded slightly. Maybe they did need an Onix. An Onix could bore through the caves to the surface. Maybe there was an Onix down here? No, Pikachu decided, that'd be placing hopes a little too high. Just a tad, anyway.

"Gra?" Trigger whined, nudging Ash.

Pikachu touched his shoulder gently, shaking her head and bringing a finger to her lips.

"Chu pikachu," she said hopelessly. Trigger ignored her. Believe it or not, Pyro got along better with the puppy than she ever did or could. Maybe it was a Fire brother thing or a Guy thing or something (maybe the fact that if he didn't listen to the fox, Pyro would give him painful punishment?), but Trigger only listened to her when Ash was around or when he wanted to. Actually, that was pretty much the same difference.

Ash wasn't unconscious for long. With a groan and a cough, he fluttered his eyes open, then gagged up a few gulps of water. Attempting to get up would be impossible, as both of the Pokémon were holding him down.

"I'm all right!" he smiled, then winced as his head throbbed when he sat up, arm blocking Trigger's tongue.

"You're not dead!" Shamin yelped, grabbing his roughly by the shoulders.

He blinked blearily at her. "Should I be?"

She frowned, pushing him back. "It probably would save me the trouble," she screamed.

"We're going to die down here anyway!"

"Oh, come on," he said, touching the wrapping around his head gingerly. "We're not going to die. Obviously the river runs through the caves, so we can exit out the river that way."

"And we'll survive that?"

"Well, _you_ can stay down here then," Ash muttered off-handedly, looking around the gigantic cave.

"It doesn't look that big from the outside."

"We're probably a few more feet underground," Shamin growled.

Ash grinned. "But, on the bright side, we're here. Ossature."

"Do you really think anyone here can battle with you? They're all dead!"

"How do you know?" he asked suspiciously. "Maybe they have a back way out of the caves, huh? Didn't think of that, did you? You always jump to conclusions."

"And you don't?" Shamin snapped. "You're 'jumping to the conclusion' that they are still alive. Well, call me cynical, but I think my theory has a better chance of being right."

Ash frowned. "The only way we're gonna find out is if we go to the . . . um . . . buildings," he finished vaguely, unsure if the buildings were once temples or centers or battlegrounds.

"I bet I'm right," she stated as they walked, Pikachu riding on Trigger.

He growled. "I bet not."

Shamin smirked. "How much you wanna bet?"

Ash smirked. "All right. I say . . ." He paused, thinking for a moment. "You have to carry Miriam's and my packs if I'm right."

She sputtered. "I'd have to carry all three?!" Miriam did not believe in packing lightly, which is why Ash was getting semi-decent muscles. And, if she lost, she'd have to carry everyone's packs.

"Deal?" he asked sweetly.

"Fine. And if I win, _you_ have to, have to . . . um . . ." It had to be something really good. Miriam could think of one, but Shamin's brain was blank. Something he really didn't like to do, or something that could better her current lifestyle. But what?

"Well?"

"I thinking! All right, you have to"—_Something he hates, something he hates, something he won't do without being drunk_—"give Pyro a bath!" she finished proudly.

"_What?!_" Ash yelped, already imagining the hospital bed he would be lying in.

"Well?" she asked, batting her eyes.

He gritted his teeth and stuck out his hand. "Deal."

She took it. "Deal."

"Do you want to start carrying my pack?" Ash asked sweetly, holding out the dripping mass.

"You haven't won yet, Bucko," Shamin countered. _Oh, God, I better not lose._ "I do have some lilac-scented shampoo for you to use."

"Ha ha." _Oh, God, I'd better not lose._

Pikachu looked over her shoulder, wondering which one was going to lose.

****

"What is it?" Shamin asked, peeking in the crack.

"Jeez, give it some breathing room!" Ash sighed, pulling her way. "It's a Cubone."

"It's cute!"

Ash made no comment. Shamin thought Pyro was cute, as did Miriam (obviously). Of course, he thought the fox was cute, provided he wasn't angry or annoyed, pissed or peeved, hungry or homicidal, bored or damn, stubborn or sadistic, defending property and/or pride, or basically in one of his many "moods". It would probably be a shorter list to say when Pyro looked "cute" under Ash's critique.

Maybe never? No, when Pyro was asleep, he was almost cute. When he was **far, FAR** away, he was the possibly cutest.

Of course, Ash really didn't gage Pokémon by cuteness. That was _girls'_ territory.

"Can you make it come out?" Shamin asked hopefully.

"Leave it alone," he sighed. "They're very shy."

"I think you scared it."

Ash looked at her with wide eyes. "_I_ scared it? Excuse me, but weren't you the one who was yelling at the thing to stop running away? And then Trigger probably scared it to death when he barked and growled at it." Ash grinned, looking at the puppy, which was still recovering from the bump he received from the Bone Club.

"It didn't have to hit him," Shamin sniffed. "It probably isn't a very nice Pokémon if it hits defenseless Pokémon."

"Trigger isn't defenseless."

Shamin glared at him, giving the puppy a comforting hug. "He's just a _puppy_, Shan."

"So is every other Growlithe, Shamin. And I reckon that Cubone wasn't the oldest either, otherwise it probably would have attacked more than it did. Probably not very experienced."

"Don't you even _care_ that Trigger got hurt?"

Ash looked at her speechless for a moment. "Of course I do! But it's not that big of a deal!"

"I'll hit you on the head and see how big of a deal for you!" she growled, standing and turning curtly to walk back towards the building. Trigger, after sniffing where the Cubone was still hiding, bounded after her.

"It's not like he's making that big of a deal about it," Ash sighed, shaking his head. "What do you think, Pikachu?"

She shrugged from her perch on a rock, listening to the Cubone scramble inside. "Chu pikachu Chupi."

"Yeah, I guess she is. And she babies him too much. Come on, let's catch up," he sighed, holding out his arms to allow Pikachu to leap into them. With a grin, she leaped and scampered onto his shoulder.

"Pika!" she called, waving good-bye to the just peeking out Cubone. It shrank back into the crack. She shook her head sadly.

By the time they caught up with Shamin, she was standing with her hands on her hips at the base of some stairs, studying the building with great care. Trigger was toying with a round rock, rolling it like a ball and hurting his teeth every time he bit into it. Obviously, he had yet to figure out that the pain would stop if he stopped, but, as Miriam pointed out, that puppy was really dumb on some points. She had, in fact, been comparing the pup to her two traveling companions.

"Looks like they were doing some remodeling, and then just left," Ash said, looking at the half-finished skeletal framework that stuck out like very bones of the building.

Shamin gave in a cold stare. "Remodeling _every_ building?" she asked tightly, waving a hand to indicate the rest of the building, three, that were in the same condition. "Usually you finish one building, and then move to the next."

"Well, what do you think?" Ash snapped.

"Ooh, he asks for _my_ opinion," she sneered. "I don't know, though."

"Should I be surprised?"

"Damn."

There was the silent war of stares between the two, showing that neither was going to back down and clearly stating that it was the other person who started this all, so he or she had better apologize before things got ugly.

"Pi _ka_," Pikachu groaned, holding her head. Jeez, what was with these two? Could they just not fight? They never acted like this, or at least as bad. Then she twitched her ears, hearing something behind them.

"You know, I think I win the bet," Shamin stated. "Everyone's dead."

"I don't see any skeletons," Ash growled. "So they got out."

"Died."

"Got out."

"Pikapi," Pikachu started, tapping Ash's head.

"They _died_."

"_Escaped_."

"Pikapi?"

"Dead!"

"Alive!"

"Pikapi!"

"Actually, you're both right," chuckled a voice behind them. The two feuding teens whirled, seeing a pale lanky boy with wild red hair and more freckles than on a dot-to-dot puzzle studying them with mild amusement, while a young girl, presumably his sister by the similar facial and hair features, petted Trigger. "The Ossature Sectional was flooded in decades ago by a long storm, so my Da says, anyway. Says, 'It rained 'most a week, maybe two!'" The boy shook his head hopelessly. "He negated to mention that Ossature was always flooded, according to Grandma, except that's when the pools started coming in with a bit more force since the water level got deeper."

"Really?" Shamin started. "And you live here?"

The boy smirked. "Of course not, silly."

"I told you they had a back door," Ash muttered arrogantly. Shamin side-kicked him in the knee.

"Any idiot can get out of the caves. Of course, alive is another story." The boy grinned devilishly.

"And how do you get out?" she asked.

He grinned wider. "And who do I have the pleasure of meeting?" he asked, bowing.

"I'm A—Shan," Ash introduced, forcing his alias out. ***, he had to get around to telling them what his real name was. This was like the third time this week he almost slipped. Ash mentally shuddered, imaging the pain he'd go through when his friends found out on their own. Neither girl liked being lied to, or made a fool of. "And this is Shamin. And Pikachu," he added when Pikachu tapped his head in reminder.

"And this is Trigger," Shamin put in, kneeling next to her puppy and petting him as well. "Who are you?"

"Brighid," she grinned. "He's a very nice puppy!"

"And I'm Oliver," her brother stated. "So what are you people doing down here?"

"Wasn't swimming," Shamin muttered.

"I'd like to compete in Ossature," Ash stated.

"If it's still run," Shamin added slyly.

Oliver raised an eyebrow at the silent War of Glares that waged between the two. "Of course it is. On a good month, on average, we get two people to come here!" He sounded proud.

"And on a bad month?"

"We get two dead bodies, or we get no one. I don't know which is worse, though."

"Well, at least we came on a good month," Ash smiled. Then he paused. "Two people a month?" Oliver nodded. "But I thought . . . well, I thought no one knew about this League." _Did everyone know about these Leagues?!_

Oliver shrugged. "It's not so much that they know, but that someone tells them. My Aunt and Uncle usually go out to find someone and talk about _The Legend_. _WOooooo_. Hey, we have to keep the League running _somehow_," he said defensively when the two Trainers looked at him.

"Sounds like a family-run League," Shamin put in.

At that, Oliver looked peeved. "No. We're just the caretakers. _I'm_ not even qualified for Trainer status here, by the old standards. Something about going from caretaker to Trainer, going through all the proper steps. Ma and Da won't even let me go train in Violet or Navy-Blue or whatever color that League was, and even they say I could win because it's so easy."

"I think it's Indigo."

"Like I care," he spat. "It's a joke of a League, anyway," he muttered.

"Is not!" Ash countered hotly.

"I take it you're from there?" Oliver asked snidely.

"You be nice, Oliver!" Brighid scolded. "Da and the Council won't want to hear you speaking like that to a Trainer!"

"He's not a Trainer here," her brother said coldly. "And she's not a Trainer _anywhere_."

Shamin snarled at him.

Brighid glared at her brother. "She's got a pretty Growlithe, and they're hard to train."

"He's young," Oliver said dismissive. "And look how inattentive he is. Doesn't even move when I snap my fingers. Poorly trained, definitely."

"That's because, jerk, he's deaf!" Shamin snapped, leaping up and jumping to strangle Oliver for insulting her pet. "Which is a lot better off than what you'll be when Shan'll let go of me!"

"Jeez, he didn't—"Ash stopped when an elbow greeted his cheek, stars erupting his the back of his brain. "What is your problem!"

Shamin huffed, straightening her shirt. "You!"

Oliver tilted his head. "You two aren't related, are you?"

"You're disgusting," she snapped.

"I suppose you'll want to clean up," Oliver sighed, indicating Ash's brow. "And dried up. Ossature isn't the most difficult League, so you shouldn't be here too long, provided you have some common sense."

"We're gonna die," Shamin sneered.

"Look who's talking," Ash growled.

Oliver shifted his gaze between the two, then shrugged. "Brighid, you take Shamin to get cleaned up, and I'll take Shan, as he's the one competing. I assume." He looked curiously at Shamin.

"Won't dream of it," Shamin snipped.

"Ignore him. He's just mad cuz he didn't get Rank," Brighid advised with a smile, taking her hand.

"Cuz he's not _good_ enough."

Oliver's face turned as red as his hair. "Shut up, Twerp!"

The girl stuck her tongue out at her brother. "I can give you a tour!"

"Of what?" she muttered, signing to Trigger to follow.

"Come with me," Oliver ordered to Ash, starting to walk in the opposite direction.

Ash looked at Pikachu, then shrugged. "Well, we're here, at least." Then he grinned. "Ready to win?"

"Pika!"

****

"And this," Brighid said triumphantly, "is the Pokémon Center. We have a Chansey!" Then she paused. "She's with Ma, cuz Patellacoon broke her knee. Again"

Shamin blinked, looking at the small room. It was, well, "empty" would be a word to use. So would "ancient" and "under construction." One wall looked like prison bars from the visible supports. Half of the room _was_ finished, painted, tiled, and whatever-ed that made a room complete. The other half wasn't. "A Patellacoon?" she repeated dumbly.

"It's several levels down. The Pokémon cannot leave here, not the Ground variety or Skeletal. You have to swim out, and the water isn't good for them. And the Pokémon here, the wild ones, aren't allowed into Pokéballs. They were outlawed because we didn't want collectors collecting our Pokémon. Skeletal are only found here, for the most part, in such large numbers, anyway. So Chansey is with Ma in some of the deepest caverns. It takes a week to get down there, and back up. We won't know if she died, either," the girl finished solemnly.

"Levels?"

"Ossature has many levels, most of them difficult to get to because of the cave-in years ago. Of course, people do live down there. I do. There's more light."

"I thought you . . . lived outside?" Shamin questioned.

Brighid looked at her curiously. "Then how would we know when someone comes? We leave, yes, but we live down there."

"Oh." _Ossature sure is whacked out_, she thought.

Something crashed in the back, which caused Trigger to come racing innocently out. He knew that if something fell and broke, it was best to get as far away as possible. He was holding a bone in his jaws.

"Sorry," Shamin squeaked, afraid of the mess. Trigger did not make small messes.

Brighid shrugged. "It doesn't matter. Come on. I'll show you the Hall."

As they walked out, Shamin looked at the buildings like a true tourist. "Umm, Brighid, why aren't any of the buildings finished?"

"They are finished."

"They are?"

"They are perfectly livable. We can set up forcefields to regulate conditions. Like in the Center." Brighid looked at Shamin's confusion. "Have you ever been to other Leagues?"

"Sort of?" Did just standing on the outside count?

"Each League has a trademark-sort of look. Maybe it's the colors or the location. This is Ossature's. It's just like what kind of Badges each League uses, the operation and hierarchy. Each League is individual, and we express that individuality in whatever way we wish."

Shamin looked down the trail at the buildings. "I don't see this one."

Brighid sighed. "It doesn't really matter, Shamin." She held out her arms. "This is the Hall."

She stopped dead, face pale. "And what's that?" she asked shakily, pointing her finger.

The girl followed her gaze. "Oh, that. It's just a Tibuma. It's probably just hungry."

"'_Just_'?"

The Pokémon growled.

****

"So you're from the Indigo League area?" Oliver asked casually as Ash changed into some dry clothes.

"Yeah," Ash said slowly, tying back his hair. When had it grown so long? "Why?"

The other boy made no answer to why he had asked, instead examining Pikachu. "You train her well, obviously."

Pikachu grinned under the hand. "Kaa."

Ash smiled. "Thanks. Do you have any Pokémon?"

It was like Oliver finally could say something that he never had the chance to say before and take pride in. His face literally split into two as he reached behind his back and withdrew a deep-grey Pokéball. "Everyone says he's worthless, but I know Ossa could win anything."

"Ossa?"

Oliver opened the Pokéball and released a . . . creature. Ash blinked. It was all he could think of to call it. It was maybe only as tall as Pikachu, and it looked dead. It raised its skull-head—just like a Cubone—to look at him. But, as a Cubone wore the skull as a memory, this creature wore the bone because it was its head. The pale blue eyes looked at him, and Ash's stomach turned as he looked at the ribcage and saw the shrunken organs still beating, churning, moving, doing whatever it was they did. This creature—Pokémon—Ossa was just a walking skeleton of bones. What was worse was that Oliver bent down and hugged it.

"Isn't he marvelous?" the boy gushed. "I've had him over a year now, and Doxie and his groupie said he'd be dead in a week. But we showed them, didn't we, Ossa?"

The creature made a harsh purring sort of noise, leaning against the hand.

Ash gulped, trying to control his stomach. Ossa was not a pretty Pokémon. It wasn't that it was nauseating, not that. The bones were pure white and clean, but bones should not be able to walk around and _look_ at you. "What . . . what is it?"

Oliver looked peeved. "His name is Ossa. Jeez!" Still glaring at Ash, Oliver continued. "It's an **Osteon.**, an Eevee evolution, if you must know."

Pikachu walked over carefully, her nose bobbing. "Pika?"

Ossa backed against Oliver skittishly, burying his head. "He's shy," Oliver said defensively.

Ash nodded wordlessly. "I . . . just never saw an . . . an Osteon," he said weakly. "I didn't know they existed."

"Well, get used to it. These caverns are home to many rare Pokémon that haven't even seen the light of the sun for thousands of years, who only come from **these** caverns." Oliver smirked at Ash. "You think you've seen them all with that what, two-hundred, three-hundred, whatever-hundred that are registered. This world's a big place, with many people not living in all the places Pokémon do. You've seen a small fraction, and if you want to train to be great, don't act so surprised whenever you meet a new breed." He stood up. "Trainers use that to their advantage."

"Thanks for the advice," Ash said tightly. "So, how does this League work?"

Oliver recalled Ossa. "Efficiently. We win, you lose." He smirked, throwing up the Pokéball and catching it confidently.

Ash grinned. "We'll have to see about that."

"That we will." Oliver sighed, rolling the Pokéball in his hands. "There are four tests or challenges respectively, my choice. The first is simple. Even your friend could win. No offense meant." He grinned softly.

"None taken."

"Pikapi!" Pikachu scolded.

"What?" Ash asked with his air of innocence.

"Pika chu pikachu Chupi pikachu!" she reproved.

Ash looked at her with amused eyes and placed his hands on his hips. "I am not turning _traitor!_"

Oliver raised his head. "Turning traitor starts easily, you know? Just fair warning, Trainer." He looked at him with his green eyes seriously.

"What?"

"Pokémon training, as they say, says your problems are your problems." He tossed the ball and caught it again. "Records showed that there were these two trainer that had trained together since forever, and, well, one wanted to win so bad that he, or she, just left the other to die. The trainer might have even purposely sabotaged the other's chances of winning, if you get my drift. There are even records of Trainers abandoning their Pokémon to fend for themselves in the caverns against the wild ones that _love_ fresh and tender meat. One even killed his Pokémon, his favorite, to win. Loyalty is bull."

Ash looked at him appalled. "You can't be serious!"

"Oh, dead serious," Oliver disagreed, rubbing the Pokéball against his chin. "I have seen it. Not that bad, I'll admit, but I have."

"So you're saying you're going to do that too?" Ash demanded. "Might as well, if you're saying that _I'm_ going to!"

Oliver chuckled. "Me? No. See, I know my limits, my dreams, and my reality. I may want to travel to train, but I have no wish to go the distance like you do. Because, Ash, I _know_ what will happen if I do. Because I've seen it, and heard it spoke like God's word since my birth."

Ash stood silently, running the words over his brain. "You called me Ash."

He sighed. "That is your name, isn't it? Just end the charade now."

"How do you people _know!_" he demanded. "Everywhere I go, they know! How?"

"Treat us like idiots, and we'll treat you like one."

Ash frowned. "Fine." Then he paused, thinking over everything he learned. "So you're saying I'm going to betray Pikachu or Shamin?" Oliver nodded. "Bull."

He shrugged. "Suit yourself. But you will, should your desire to win prove greater than your ethics."

"They won't."

Oliver looked at him, summing him up. "Haven't they already, Ash?" he asked quietly. Then he turned and looked away before Ash could question what he meant.

****

Shamin's eyes were wide as the Tibuma growled at them, then her jaw dropped when, well, the Tibuma's jaw dropped as well.

"The poor baby," Brighid said softly, yet in a very critical voice. "The ligaments are wearing down again. The Trainer should be watching that."

The Tibuma started to whine, pawing at the dropped jaw.

"Don't do that!" Brighid scolded, rushing over to get the jaw. "You'll scratch it, and what good'll that do? Now come here so I can put this back in place." The Tibuma obeyed, trotting over with a clit-clitty that set Shamin's teeth on edge.

It probably was a very bad situation change when Trigger decided to investigate, moving out from behind Shamin's legs, where _he_ had been hiding. With his nose, he could smell _Bones_ and the smell of _Cat_. He liked bones and chasing cats, and his mouth literally was drooling. It would have probably gone very bad for the Tibuma if it hadn't gone _very, very_ bad for Trigger first.

"Kabutops, slash!" ordered a brash voice.

Shamin watched spellbound as a flying mass of brown erupted towards her puppy. "Trigger!" she screamed.

Trigger was just as surprised, but, after _much, much much, __**much**_ training by Ash and Pikachu (and he was _still in need of practice!_)_ he_ learned not to see what it was for too long, but to React! At the first breath of the breeze, he jumped and twisted his body aside, then landed in his attack stance.

"Whoa, ***! Where the Hell did you learn that!?" Shamin demanded, eyes wide.

The voice was just as surprised. "Hydro pump!"

"What?!" Shamin screeched. _What the Hell was that attack!_ When she saw the spout of water escape, she figured it out. _Dodge_! she signed rapidly.

Trigger didn't obey, (he probably didn't even see the sign,) merely leaping up and over the spout and delivering a searing Ember attack, then landing smugly on his paws. It was a great surprise to him when he saw the attack didn't have the usual effect. _But . . . but that always worked before!_

The voice chuckled, and Shamin watched as a tall boy, older than her, with deep grey-blue hair step out of the shadows. Miriam would probably consider him handsome (but a "young puppy," as she dubbed anyone her junior), and, in the right circumstances, he would be under Shamin's eye. Yet not now, as he was commanding that . . . _that_ to attack her Trigger!

"Leer!"

"Hey, back off!" she screamed as the eyes glowed. _Don't look!_ she signed rapidly. She remembered that attack.

Trigger snorted and charged (something _not_ ordered), head low, and got a savage hold on the ankle portion of the Pokémon. The Kabutops tried to slash the small puppy, but Trigger nimbly stayed out of the way.

_Bark!_ Shamin signed, then quickly covered her ears. Trigger loved to bark, even if he couldn't hear it, because he _knew_ everyone else could and gave him _special_ attention when he did. (Well, except Miriam and Pyro, who usually made a special point to inform the pup that they did not like his bark.)

The yelps started incessantly, getting louder with each new one. And the walls echoed the sound over and over and over, magnifying the annoying sound.

"Stop that, mutt!" the Trainer yelled, covering his ears and bending over in near pain.

"Call that bloody thing off!" Shamin ordered, not hearing the boy's scream but wanting Trigger to shut up just as much as the rest of them.

The boy growled, but agreed as he held up a grey Pokéball and recalled the Kabutops. "Return!"

"Shh!" Shamin ordered, and Trigger silenced, looking very pleased with himself. "Why the Hell did you attack us!" she demanded, inspecting Trigger. He had been slashed and was doting over his _Victory Scar_.

"Your Growlithe was going to eat my Tibuma, ***!" he snapped, rushing over to look at the Pokémon.

"You lost a battle!" Brighid screamed in near shock. "Oliver won't believe it! You lost!"

"I didn't lose!" the boy raged. "She cheated!"

"I did not!" Shamin defended instantly. She had? How? They actually had _rules_ for a battle?

"She did not! You recalled first! You lost, Doxie!" Brighid said with twisted delight.

Doxie glared. "Just up, you Osteoma!"

She stepped back in shock at the term, and her eyes went wide, tears biting.

"Don't you ever call my sister that!" Oliver screamed, suddenly coming up with Ash and Pikachu. They had heard (it would have been hard not to) Trigger's barks and had come a-running.

"What's it mean?" Shamin asked.

Oliver glared at her, then saw she really didn't know. "Technically, it's a bone tumor, but here it's used—"

"It's for people like _Them_ and their families!" Doxie spat with a smirk. "The weaklings of the League, the one's that can't be trusted to do any real care of Pokémon."

"Why you—" Oliver started, preparing to leap, but Ash gripped his wrist.

"Chu!" Pikachu gritted, holding his cuff.

"It's not worth it, Oliver," he gasped, then winced as Oliver bared his teeth. "Besides, I know of a better way. Just let him meet a certain little fox. He'd be glad to."

Doxie smirked, not understanding the possible danger to him. "Oh, he wouldn't attack me, because he'd lose."

Brighid suddenly jumped up to defend her brother. "I have to wonder, since you lost to her! And she doesn't train much! She even said so!"

"_You_ won?" Ash asked incredulously, looking at her with wide eyes in shock.

"Pi?" Pikachu repeated. She looked over at the smugly sitting Growlithe.

"You two act so surprised," Shamin smiled, crossing her arms smugly. "Trigger did so well, too."

Ash's astonishment dropped several notches at that. "Trigger won, then, not you. Because, if I know Trigger, he, one, didn't check in, two, the amount he listens to you is worth a scraped penny, and three, you can't battle to save your life!"

"Oh, face it! I can too battle!" Shamin screamed, knowing he had probably been right on all counts. _She_ had won the battle, dammit! "And Trigger did so listen to some of my signs, so there!" She stuck her tongue out.

"Some of them, then?" He looked at the puppy. "We'll have to work on that, then."

"So _you_ train the Growlithe?" Doxie asked seriously. Ash looked up and gave a small nod. "You did good, then. Needs work, but it's a start," he added snidely. "So you're the Trainer that's suppose to want to battle?"

"Yes."

"He's my responsibility!" Oliver stepped in hotly. "I met him first under my watch, so back off!"

Doxie sneered. "Like he wants a loser Osteoma to test him."

Oliver paled, then started to turn red again. "He gets what he gets! You could have had him if you checked the—"

"Protocols, ha!"

Brighid stepped between the two. "He's right, Doxie! And you know what the Council'll do when they find out you let your Tibuma got in that shape, they won't be happy!"

"Shut up, you!"

"What about his Tibuma?" demanded Oliver.

"It's—"

Doxie glowered. "Say it, Twerp, and you'll regret it."

"Maybe you shouldn't make threats you can't back up!" Shamin snapped, advancing on Doxie. Then she gulped, suddenly aware of what she was doing.

"And you call yourself a Trainer," Ash spat, inspecting the Tibuma critically. Mentally, he was comparing it to Ossa. The bones on Ossa were far whiter and stronger, and while Ossa was nimble and zealous, the Tibuma seemed slow and lethargic. It looked poorly cared for in comparison to the Osteon. (Of course, Ash had to wonder if that was just the difference of the species.)

"What did you say?" Doxie growled.

"This Tibuma obviously needs some serious nutritional values met," Ash said coldly.

"I saw that, too!" Brighid nodded, hands on her hips.

The Trainer glared. "I suggest you watch yourself, Trainer. Tests here can be _very_ dangerous, just as the Pokémon." Then he turned smartly, walking away. Doxie stopped for a moment. "And I hope for a rematch against that Growlithe."

Oliver seethed watching him go. "He only won because he used brute strength! If I had battled him, I would have won," he snarled, whirling.

"And why didn't you?" Brighid hissed. "You never even showed up!"

Her brother narrowed his eyes, opened his mouth, then snapped it shut defiantly. "I had my reasons."

"You were scared!" Brighid crowed.

"There's nothing wrong with being afraid," Shamin said lightly.

Oliver glared, clutching his Pokébelt. "Don't _you_ ever think _I _was **afraid**!"

Ash looked at Oliver. He wanted to be great here, so what could cause him not to at least try? He cleared his throat, deciding he would ask Oliver later, in private. "So . . . how do you start here?"

****

Ash, holding a stalagmite, carefully looked down into the deep cavern, gulping at the sheer drop and lack of bottom. Then he looked over to Oliver, who, unconcerned with the height, was walking across the narrow stretch of rock that constituted for a bridge. It reminded Ash of walking on a balance beam, except that there was no one there to catch him if he fell. What made it all the worse was that Oliver was rambling wildly and walking rapidly across it, arms flaring.

"Are you coming?" Oliver asked irritably, walking backwards for a spell.

"Is there_ whoa ***_ a wider_ yeep_ bridge?" Ash asked, carefully stepping onto the rock and tight-roping across far slower than what Oliver had demonstrated.

Oliver reached the end and leaned against a rock, grinning as he watched Ash walk across. "Scared of heights?"

"No. Scared of falling, yes." His eyes never left his feet. "This isn't the widest walkway."

"It's natural. We never had the need of making another."

"Hasn't anyone fallen?"

"Well, that's a silly question," Oliver chuckled. "Of course people have fallen. _I've_ fallen, but I was younger and Ma caught me before I fell too far. Won't walk across for weeks afterwards." He shrugged. "But you get over it eventually. You get used to it."

Ash nodded slowly, trying to raise one arm enough to keep his balance.

"It's easier if you don't think of it as being up a few thousand feet," Oliver said helpfully.

Ash risked looking up to glare. "Oh, please, just shut up."

"It does work. Did you know that if you take a newborn Meowth, where the eyes haven't opened yet, put it on a table, and then have a sheet of glass jutting out, that newborn will keeping walkin, um, crawling, whatever until reaches the end of the glass. But, it you take a Meowth kitten whose eyes are open, it'll pause at the end of the table. And, when he tried to jump down and see that 'Oh, I can walk on thin air,' his confidence will grow. He'll be so confident that he'll just walk until—_Plop_!—he falls right off the glass."

"How does that relate to this?" Ash questioned bitterly.

"I'm just saying that sometimes your eyes make it worse than what it really is, that they can deceive you." Oliver paused. "Oh, but if you do step off that bridge, you will fall. For a _long_ time. This is not an illusion."

Ash pursed his lips, turning sideways and continuing the trip. His legs felt similar to jelly. "So where is this infamous first test?" He paused. "What is the first test?"

Oliver looked thoughtful, kicking away a stone. "It's not so much _Tests_, I always thought, or even battling. Ossature is more about building. Building the right team, building the right moves, building the right mixture of offense and defense, building whatever it is one has to build to be great. You must know that if a Trainer wishes to use Pokémon of a certain variety, such as a Water Trainer, on his or her team, there are inherent faults to be overcome. Water Pokémon are naturally weak against Electric, that sort of thing." He checked to make sure Ash did. "It's not that you can't be great with just one type on your team. Quite the contrary. With only the practice of one variety, a Trainer can focus his energy into training those type, get to know all of the problems and pluses faced with that area. It does explain why most leaders do specialize in a certain Pokémon type. It's probably a good hypothesis to state that the more advanced a Trainer, the more specialized the Pokémon type they use, because that's what they know. Take your Pikachu. I bet you know a lot of things about Electric because you use her so much."

Ash nodded without thinking, then paused. "I know about _pikachu_, not Electric." Then he paused again. "Why couldn't I bring her along?"

"Why should you?" Oliver countered. "All right, maybe you have a point. Pikachu over Electric—"

"How did you know I use her a lot?" Ash interrupted.

"She looks extremely healthy and well-trained, and since she's out of her Pokéball, she's very available in case of emergencies. It's all a matter of correct guesswork."

"Oh."

"Anyway, I considered that a total misinterpretation of Training. To train, one should know a lot about every kind of Pokémon. That's just my opinion," he added hastily. Ash found he agreed. "It takes most Trainers a few years to find their type, and most new Trainers start out with so many varieties because it's easier on them to win in a bind."

"What does this have to do with the tests?" Ash asked after Oliver grew silent.

"Oh, nothing, mostly. I was just rambling. I do that a lot." He smiled when Ash rolled his eyes. "But you do know that the Pokémon you choose could affect they way a battle goes. And _not_ because of Type advantage, but the amount of training you do with that particular Pokémon. You have to build a really well-rounded—and don't mean by Type—team."

"Yeah, that's right. So _you_ think the only reason most Trainers became top because they only use a certain type of Pokémon?"

"You have to admit, the majority. Your Elite Four—Lance in Dragon, Agatha in Ghost and Poison, Bruno in Ground and Fighting, Lorelei in Ice. And some of the more famous ones, like Prima, whose in Water. And even most Gyms specialize in certain Types."

"How do you know all this?" Don't get Ash wrong, he knew these common facts like everyone else, but he thought Oliver would be less knowledgeable, as he was from a different area of the world.

Oliver smirked. "There is another one of your problems. You don't know anything. If I told you there was an Emerald League—"

"There is?" Ash asked excitably, insult about not knowing anything forgotten.

He laughed. "You don't even know. Whereas _I_ have been told of every League still run to present day, of every League that has stopped running, of histories and faults and advantages and Trainers of these Leagues. And not by choice. I have to know this stuff if I want to be a Trainer _here_. No one is going to give me a little Pokédex and free Pokémon to start out with if I can't pass Basic. No one's going to give me one if I _do_, come to think about it." His face contorted. "I don't know how some people actually pass it," he muttered.

"When do you take the test?"

"Oh, I passed that _years_ ago, and I have a refresher every year. History doesn't change, Ash. In fact, Ossature is considered the best place for records of every League battle anywhere. I looked at some of yours before you came."

"_Every_ battle?" Ash echoed, suddenly reddening at the memory of some of his. Oliver grinned, seeing the wince.

"It's a bit hard to get Indigo's, because they don't know about us. And we don't want them to, because, as of late, Indigo is getting into the League Network thing. They'd want us to join and share knowledge and Trainers."

Ash nodded. He remembered reading something like that over the Net back home last year. (Going over the Internet was the only way he could really keep up with Pokémon current events, and he could always claim that it was homework. Daily Life required that each student bring in at least one event a week to explain to the class. Of course, after his first experience, Ash refrained from speaking about Pokémon. Well, most of the time . . .) The three major Leagues—Indigo, Orange Island, and Johto—had just started a new worldwide League competition. While any Trainer could get into the three separate Leagues with the right number of badges, only Trainers who won in the top 10% of each League would be allowed to compete in the World Division. Other Leagues started to join soon afterwards, and now almost eight were participants.

(After Pooka, Ash had gone back to do more research on it to see if Gus was right about something he implied, about how some things are started only for the money. Ash had clicked in believing that the World Division had been started to challenge Trainers even more, and then clicked off in disgust when he read about some of the merchandise and stock profits the owners would be getting. _None of which_ would be going to help Pokémon or Trainers, which were what they—under the _very_ first line of _why—_stated their reasons were for starting such a League. He vowed then and there that he wouldn't be battling there anytime soon.)

Oliver had still been talking. "But, yes, every Gym battle you had, and then the competitions in the Leagues. The Gym Leaders are required to file a dossier about each battle they have so other Gyms can know about them. I got the information from Ratwa months ago." Oliver looked at Ash critically. "We thought you'd be here a lot sooner, to be honest. Doxie was on round-the-clock shift just waiting for you the first few months."

"I went to Pooka first," Ash informed him.

Oliver raised an eyebrow. "Pooka? No one's been there for hundreds of years, not since the last Trainer . . . well, let's just say the murderer was a little unpleasant." Ash blinked. Whatever could Gus have done to his Trainer? What _had_ his Trainer ordered him to do? "I don't recall anyone actually running it."

"Gus does. He's a G—a Trainer there. The man at Ratwa told me to go there." Ash chose not to inform Oliver of what Gus was.

The redheaded boy looked perplexed for a moment. "Maybe I have to refresh my knowledge on Pooka," he murmured. "The man Gus rings no bells in my memory." Then he smiled. "Actually, I shouldn't be too surprised we didn't know you were heading to Pooka. Ratwa and Pooka were the considered friends in old times, didn't attend any of the meetings. They held similar views against other Leagues. It made them greatly disliked, if I remember. And they hold no wish in helping us in knowing about upcoming Trainers, because they are they to help the Trainer." He laughed sarcastically. "Aren't most of the Leagues!"

"Most?" Ash repeated.

"Some Leagues are a waste of time, I'll admit. And some, well, 'helping' the Trainer is not the word I'd use. They do, but I don't. Help like that means you don't need bother putting a rope around your neck when you walk off a cliff—they do it for you."

"Ouch."

"Hmm-hmmm."

They walked in silence for a moment, and Ash was suddenly aware that they were walking down a winding cave with many, many outlets. He had been following Oliver on automatic, going into certain entrances. If Oliver were to leave and tell Ash to get back on his own, Ash would have been so screwed royal.

(_Now which Trainer was it that said I had to pay attention?_ Ash idly wondered.)

"So . . . _where_ is the test?" he asked, repeating his earlier question.

"'What is the test?' 'Where is the test?' Are you always this curious?" Oliver teased.

Ash spoke bluntly. "Yes."

"'Curiosity killed the Meowth,'" quoth the boy wisely.

Ash knew there was more to the quote that what most people knew. "'But lack of it would have killed thousands more,'" he finished smugly. Oliver raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, really?"

"Or maybe it was just that that particular Meowth was curious about a big old truck coming down the highway," Ash grinned.

Oliver grinned as well, shaking his head. "Maybe, or, it this case, about falling beams." He pointed up into the ceiling of the cave, and Ash followed his gesture. The blond-dyed boy didn't notice that Oliver's smile faded a notch.

In the dim he could see many protruding beams from the ceiling, actual beams of constructions, that hung like stalactites. A platform extended from several of them, making it like a balcony up there.

"That is incomplete."

"How can you tell?" Ash asked skeptically.

Oliver gave him the Look. "Up there is a poor Pokémon in distress. Your task, should you choose to accept it, is to get up there and help it." His voice was unusually grave.

"You stuck a Pokémon up there for a _test?_"

"That's sick," the Trainer spat, insulted. "That Pokémon—we call him Desbrisier—goes up on his own. It's safer for him. Almost nothing is insane enough to go up there after him." He shook his head sadly.

"But we are?"

"No. _You_ are. I'm going up as well, but I'm not insane, because I'm using safety precautions." He withdrew a Pokéball. "You, on the other hand—_without the use of your Pokémon!_—will climb up."

"How does this help build my Pokémon team?" Ash asked insolently. "That is what this League is about, you said."

Oliver merely shrugged, gazing back at the platforms above their heads.

"I thought you League's actually started to battle!" Ash complained under his breath, glaring up at the height.

"I see no point in a battle if you can't even stop to help a Pokémon," Oliver said coldly, terribly cold, having overheard. "Maybe, Ash, the first few tests are initiations to prove if you are worth the time and effort from us for a battle. And I suggest you should get your priorities straight."

"Hey, I wasn't actually just going to leave it up there," he countered, trying to defend himself. He could plainly see that he had lost serious points with Oliver, points that would take work to get back—if they ever could be. "I'm not that cold. All I was saying is that the other Leagues—well, not Pooka and Ratwa—didn't work like this. You pretty much just battled."

"Well, in case you didn't notice, we are not like the other Leagues. We _are_ better." Oliver's green eyes narrowed. "When you climb, don't grab the Shipozi. Or, well, grab them at your own risk. The light will dim, and it will be very interesting to climb in darkness, especially after the flower gives you it's departing shock." Then he smiled sardonically. "Good luck, Ash."

****

Shamin looked around the . . . um, café while drinking her cocoa and brushing Trigger. "Does anyone else come up here, Brighid?"

"Wanna-be Trainers here are on a rotation. It's them who deal with visiting Trainers, because it helps them practice against strangers," Brighid started, feeding Trigger a biscuit. "The Trainers, like my brother, have to come up here and check on everything. We make sure all the Pokémon are accounted for and in good health. Then they report to Council."

"What exactly is the Council? Are the best Trainers on it?"

Brighid blinked, then laughed. "The best Trainers! Most of them won't know a Geodude if it knock them on the head! No, Council is just an elected body that runs the town, but running the League is another responsibility. Of course, Josh Thomas is on it, and he's a really _good_ Trainer. But he's so old he can barely move or see. Can't even eat hard stuff. Doxie said he wasn't anything, and Josh overheard. He can _hear_ really well. They had a private bout—no one knows what happened—but when Doxie came back, he was pale."

"He lost?"

She nodded. "Probably. He won't even look at anyone." She kicked away a stone. "Oliver asked Mr. Thomas if _he_ could battle him. He thought he'd really help him and stuff, and it'd be like an honor to battle Mr. Thomas, but Mr. Thomas didn't think he'd want to waste the time with him."

Shamin winced. "Ouch."

"Oliver thought so too."

"Do you want to be a Trainer?"

"No. I'm going to be a doctor, like my Ma. You get to go in the caves no one else wants to go in."

Shamin wondered exactly _why_ no one else wanted to go in those caves as she sipped her cocoa. "Get down, Trigger," she said, signing it as well. Trigger leaped down and quickly vanished to go retrieve a bone he had found earlier. "So Oliver is a Trainer here?"

"_No_. He's just a Novice. Doxie's ranked higher then my brother." She sounded disgusted. "They had a test a few weeks ago. Oliver never showed up, and he didn't tell anyone why not. If he had a valid excuse, he could have had at least _one_ match! Against his choice, too! But _no-o-o_, he just doesn't show up!"

"He probably does have a valid excuse, but it probably wouldn't sound to everyone else when he says it. Like 'the door got stuck' or 'I couldn't find my shoes.'"

"Those are not valid!"

"Validity is a point of view. That's what Miriam told me." Shamin looked at Brighid. "Well, what do _you_ think his excuse would be?"

She opened her mouth, then closed it, looking defiantly at Shamin. "I think he just . . . he just . . ."

"Yes?"

"He was just a plain chicken!"

Shamin raised an eyebrow, sipping her cocoa. "Now, what do you really think?"

This time Brighid didn't answer.

****

Ash wished Oliver had taken his Pokébelt. It would have seriously cut down his temptation to use Bulbasaur and Chitorika to help get him up, especially whenever he slid. This was a near sheer wall to climb, and Ash looked down at the drop. Now all he had to do was jump to a platform.

Well, that wasn't all he had to do.

He had to make the jump as well.

Ash bit his lip, dimly remembering a conversation he had overheard from Miriam and Shamin after he had leaped to a fire escape when they were doing one of the few evasions from Team Rocket. (There were quite a few reasons for avoiding the cities, Miriam admitted.)

"_He's a pretty good jumper," Miriam had commented as he and Pikachu got onto the other side of the railing._

_"Yeah. I would have missed," Shamin'd chuckled._

_Miriam then raised an eyebrow. "Shammy, _you'd_ miss if you played hopscotch."_

He did not always make it. Several times Ash had fallen further than he would have liked. But, over the course of a few years, Ash had gotten pretty good at judging and jumping distances. Of course, that did not mean he always made it. Sometimes he did miss. Ash just had to wonder if this was going to be one of those times as well.

He hoped not. He seriously hoped not.

"One. Two." _Two-and-a-half. Two-and-three-quarters. Two-and-eight-tenths._ "Three!" He closed his eyes and leaped. It seemed like forever before his feet touched something, and Ash bent his knees to absorb the shock. His eyes opened a sliver. "Yes."

"Maybe you should see how much you made it by?" Oliver chuckled. Ash looked up to see Oliver _hovering_ in the air, actually floating.

"How—" Ash looked backwards as he spoke, then gulped. He had maybe three inches behind him. "Whoa, crap!" he yelped, jumping forward so that a few more feet separated him from the edge.

Oliver smiled. "That really was a great jump, by the way."

"Umm . . . thanks," Ash said weakly. "How are you . . . floating?"

"Psychic type." He held up a glowing Pokéball. "Pretty cool, huh?"

"You can command your Pokémon while they're still in a Pokéball!?" Ash asked incredulously. _***, Oliver can do all that?_

Oliver grinned. "My Da taught me."

"How?"

Oliver slipped the ball onto a special loop on his belt. "We are not here to discuss Pokémon training tactics," he said seriously. It reminded Ash of how Brock had announced a Pokémon battle. "We are here to decide if you shall pass to the next level.

"To make a good team, you must first start with the Trainer. A bad Trainer makes a bad team. A simple point that is accepted by many professionals in the field. Of course, as to what makes a good Trainer is a point that will forever be debated upon." Oliver smiled, shaking his head sadly, as he floated down so he was level with Ash.

"Okay?" Ash said, unsure. "So what do I have to do?"

Oliver rolled his eyes helplessly, then continued with his ramble as if Ash hadn't interrupted. "Traits that officials _do_ agree on vary, depending on the particular group of officials ideals. Some think a Trainer has to be strong and tough, always training and ready, that Pokémon need training more than brotherhood. Others say patient and careful, slowly understanding their Pokémon and the obstacles, to be deep in the family ties. You seem to fall more towards the middle by your Training methods: friendship instead of ruling, jumping instead of looking."

Ash looked at Oliver critically. "Is that bad?"

"Do you win?"

That question surprised Ash, especially coming from Oliver. "Sometimes."

Oliver's lips twitched at the reaction. "Ultimately, you and your team _are_ judged by whether or not you win, regardless of methods." He ran a hand through his hair. "But again I ramble, don't I? The whole point is that the Trainer does have to have some concern for their Pokémon, whether viewed as friends or objects, to do what is best for them." Oliver pointed to a platform. "You see that pile of rubble?"

Ash squinted in the darkness. Past a small bridge that connected the platform was, Ash thought, a pile of rocks. "Yeah, I think so."

"_That_ is your test."

He turned his head to look at Oliver. "What? Where's the Pokémon?"

"That's your test," Oliver repeated, shrugging with almost forced neutrality. "Pokémon or not, it is your test." Ash watched as Oliver stood, his feet mere millimeters from the ledge, then started to walk. He didn't bother to follow the bridge or other platforms, but to take the straight, shortest path to his destination by walking over thin air.

Ash frowned as he started to follow by the long route. He didn't like the confusing ways of these Leagues. It was like they said whatever they wanted to throw you off balance, and that was probably what they were doing. Ash didn't like dishonest methods of battling. He didn't like dishonest methods of a lot of things, come to think about it, but in Pokémon battling, that was the worst. He thoroughly believed anyone found guilty of cheating should have his or her Battling License revoked without question. (Miriam had been very cold towards him after he released this feeling to them, and when Ash finally asked her what her problem was, she coldly said that they do not live in a prefect, black-and-white, right-and-wrong world.)

He stood next to the pile of rocks that Oliver was surveying with tight lips. They were a terrible off-grey color even in this dim lighting, and Ash thought he could break a piece in half with his hands, no matter how thick the piece was. He watched as Oliver scooped up a small rock and, with the lightest of pressure, crushed it in his hand. The Trainer shook his head in defeat.

"What's wrong?"

"Have you ever felt that all your efforts are futile, that whatever you do is just prolonging the inevitable?" he sighed, letting the fine dust slip through his fingers.

"Sometimes, I suppose," Ash said carefully as Oliver picked up another rock, larger and paler in color.

Oliver looked at him through the corner of his eye as he ran a hand over the rock. Now that Ash could see it better, he had the urge to back up. The rock was disgusting. It looked like it was flesh turned to stone, that it was once part of some grotesque statue. All it needed was maggots and it would have been perfectly stomach wrenching. The Trainer saw Ash's unconscious disgust on his face and smiled. Ash tried to hide it, he really did, but it really was bad. "What do you do when something is hopeless?"

"Depends on what it is, I guess," Ash shrugged, intently studying the surprisingly light rock at arms' length, rolling it in his hands. Even if it was disgusting, it was fascinating . . .

"Do you give up?"

"I don't like to." _Look at this groove right here . . . jeez, it feels like the artist put a lot of work into making this life-like . . . God, it even feels like it _should_ be alive_ . . . "Especially not with Pokémon. It puts a Trainer back a step, I think. A Trainer has to keep tackling a problem, even if he can't solve it, I guess."

Oliver crossed his arms, watching as Ash lifted the rock over his head to get a better view of it all. "Maybe, and maybe not."

"Wha—ahh!" Ash cried, practically dropping the rock when a layer suddenly moved aside to reveal two pale-yellow eyes staring vacantly right at him. He didn't drop it, although he came deadly close. He, in fact, had jumped back and almost slipped. The rock's eyes rested half-open, half-closed and suddenly it started to shake and quiver and it struggled to breathe in wheezing gasps.

"Don't drop him, Ash," Oliver said softly, a slight pain in his voice. Whether the remorse be for the creature or his reaction, Ash wasn't sure, and at the moment he didn't care.

"Take it back!" Tears were streaming down his face, first from the shock of something that shouldn't even have been alive suddenly gasping right in his face, and now to the fact that it was struggling to breath—to live—right in his hands. It was so cold . . . The eyes were rolling back. Don't mistake him, Ash was no coward, but the sudden experience shook him to the core as he held the thing as far away from his as possible.

Oliver floated away from Ash's hands. "That is your challenge, Ash."

"What?" Ash sobbed, horrified to see the thing looking at him with dead eyes that weren't even dead yet.

Oliver blended into the shadows, his voice quiet. "That is Desbrisier, Ash. He is over 50,000 years old. He was here when the caves just started to be formed. He is a Golem, a terribly old one at that. He probably holds the record, should that matter."

"What happened to him?" Ash whimpered, taking deep breaths to try and control his nerves.

He crossed his arms. "Golem have especially long lives, the older the larger. Sometimes a Golem gets so large it can't move. It's too large, too heavy, too old. Muscles aren't as strong as they used to be. It happens in the deepest oceans as well. A creature—can't remember the name offhand—builds its shell so big that it can't move, can't get food. It starves itself in its own home, its own protection. It doesn't realize this as it builds itself up. Its just responding to nature, and when it realizes it, it's too late.

"Desbrisier's been like this for many years. My parents used to come up and try to help him, but they don't anymore. It's hopeless, and they can't bear to see him die so slowly. Lore prohibits them from giving him a merciful death, drowned in water, but the majority of Council and Lore forgets that caves are water, that they are made from water. Not only do they kill him slowly, but they put him in pain and agony as the water condenses on his skin." Oliver shook his head.

"What am I supposed to do, then? Kill it?" Ash raged, and he felt Desbrisier—he was holding just his head!—shudder at the future.

"Could you kill him, Ash? Could you really put him out of his mercy?" Oliver asked seriously, dead-tone. "Can you kill a Pokémon, even to save another? Could you kill a baby bird Pokémon that belongs not in the nest that is it raised, that will kill the true chicks of the parents, that will eventually kill out a whole species of bird? Can you kill the helpless, tiny Pokémon as it twits in its foster nest, crying for food? I couldn't. I should, but I couldn't."

Ash admitted, to himself, that he couldn't either. He couldn't just kill Pokémon that was struggling to live, that had done no wrong. His eyes fell on Desbrisier, the tears falling. But could he let a Pokémon stay in unbearable pain like this, where Death would stop the pain?

"How does a Nurse Joy do it?" his whispered. More than once he had witnessed a Nurse Joy take in a Pokémon under her care and put it out of its pain, although he never realized it at the moment. After one battle that he had witnessed, not taken part in because of an age factor, (which Ash'd thought was the worst case of discrimination in the whole wide world,) flew through his memory . . .

_The announcement rang true." And the match goes to the Yellow Trainer! A stunning victory!"_

_Stunning was right. From his vantage point in the first few rows, Ash watched the battle like it was all there was in the world. He had been cheering just like the rest of the crowd, although his cheers varied between the Trainers. It wasn't because he suddenly saw that the other suddenly had a better chance of winning, but because of the spectacular attacks they pulled off. God, if it wasn't for that blasted minimum age-limit of 20, he'd have been right in there._

_He cheered as the Yellow Trainer, a tall redheaded, freckled woman, waved from her platform, her Politoed hoping happily at its accomplishment._

_"Now that's a Water Pokémon!" Misty yelled. She had been cheering for the Yellow Trainer through the entire battle, for this woman preferred Water types over most others. "Someday my Poliwrath will evolve into that."_

_"Only if you Trade it," Brock laughed, knowing Misty would never part with the pumped-up tadpole._

_Misty laughed as well, rolling her eyes hopelessly. "Yeah."_

_Ash smiled down at Pikachu. "Don't you wish we could have been down there, Pikachu? We would have beaten her!"_

_"Pika!"_

_"Get a life, Ash!" Misty chortled, smacking him playfully on the back of his head. "She'd wipe the floor with you. There is a reason for the age limit. These are experienced Trainers. You're not."_

_"I am too!"_

_"Cool it guys," Brock smiled, picking up his pack. "Don't worry, Ash. In nine years you can come back."_

_"Unless they put a maturity limit on it."_

_"Ha ha," Ash countered, looking back at the field. Someday he'll be out there, on the platform waving to the crowd, the winner. Suddenly he leaned forward against the pole as if to will himself to see further back more clearly. He could see a Nurse Joy and Chansey, no two (they blended together so perfectly) around the other Trainer, the Red Trainer. He couldn't see what was wrong, but suddenly a knot tied in his stomach. "Hey, guys?"_

_"What, Ash?" Brock asked, turning around._

_"What's going on over there?"_

_"Where?" Misty knew the answer soon as she asked it, and watched as the Chanseies lifted something unto the gurney. The Red Trainer was fretting around nervously while Nurse Joy tried to comfort him. "Brock?"_

_Brock struggled to think of an answer for his young friends to calm their, and his, nerves. This battle was not any more dangerous than another battle, and he could see no reason as to why two Chanseies would be needed. In fact, the Red Trainer had lost rather well. The Pokémon did not seem to be in any terrible condition after their particular bout. No one else seemed to notice the commotion in background, as it was near the exit shrouded in shadow and everyone was congratulating the winner._

_"I . . . I don't know," he admitted carefully._

_The friends watched as the Pokémon nurses, Nurse Joy, and the Trainer left the arena._

_"To the Pokémon Center?" Ash asked. So sue him. He was an ambulance chaser. (They needed rooms anyway.)_

_Brock, Misty, and Pikachu nodded. "To the Pokémon Center."_

_****_

_The trio carefully walked in, trying to act nonchalant. Of course, Ash lost it when he saw the Red Trainer sitting in a chair looking defeated._

_"You're the Red Trainer, right?" he asked with almost uncontained excitement._

_The man looked up at the boy through his longish blond-green bangs. "That is correct," he sighed in a clear Welsh accent. "Who are you?"_

_"Ash Ketchum. And these are my friends Brock and Misty. And Pikachu." The Trainer acknowledged their presence with a slight nod, but it was clear he was not totally interested in conversation._

_"We saw you at the battle. Is everything all right with your Pokémon?" Misty asked._

_The Trainer raised his head enough to look at Misty with a piercing gaze, clearly stating that that was the dumbest question ever asked by a non-blond. He bit his tongue though and did not release the comment he so wished. Misty took the hint._

_"Sorry," she squeaked, avoiding his gaze._

_"What happened?" Brock asked tentatively._

_"I really don't know. He was fine until a few minutes after the battle. Started having terrible convulsions as we left." The Trainer suddenly looked terribly helpless and lost. "He was my first Pokémon, my first. My folks gave him to me when I was three. I remember holding his so close as a kid, breathing in the scent as his long tail wrapped around me. He was like a good luck bringer. Every since I started Training, as long as he was by me, I was never lost. Never."_

_"You lost today," Ash pointed out bluntly, then winced when Brock elbowed him sharply._

_"I don't mean lost in the conventional manner, kid," the Trainer chuckled humorlessly. "Everyone loses. What I mean is I never lost by getting nothing out of what I put in. I never lost my way." Ash looked at him blankly._

_"Oh."_

_"You'll understand. Someday," the Trainer added, feeling it was necessary as he studied the raven-haired boy._

_"What did Nurse Joy say?" Misty asked._

_"She really doesn't know." Pikachu hopped onto the chair next to the Trainer and smiled hopefully at him, and he responded by petting her ears. "Nice Pikachu."_

_"Thanks."_

_They were quiet for a while, the seconds dragging one like an eternity. The trio stood nervously, feeling out of place, while the Trainer focused on Pikachu._

_"Mr. Orry?" Nurse Joy asked hesitantly, coming out from the medical room. The needle light was still lit up. "May I talk to you in private?"_

_"Yes, Nurse Joy." Mr. Orry stood up slowly and went over to the nurse also hesitantly, as if to prolong the inevitable._

_The friends watched as Nurse Joy and Mr. Orry conversed in hushed tones. The Trainer's face suddenly contorted with unspeakable pain and sadness as the nurse spoke the condition and treatment._

_"Nothing?" his whispered. She shook her head in defeat._

_"He's just too old. It is for the best."_

_The Trainer gulped, then nodded, looking down. "I understand, then." He paused. "May I . . ." He didn't continue._

_Nurse Joy understood. "Of course."_

_The two walked into the backroom._

_Without any words spoken, the trio suddenly had a terrible fear upon them. Pikachu gripped Ash's leg, and he picked her up on automatic, hugging her tightly._

_"Pikapi." Unlike the others, she knew _exactly_ what was happening. Her ears were so good . . . too good . . ._

_The minutes ticked by before Mr. Orry reappeared, no emotion on his face, save his eyes. He looked so lost, so dreadfully lost, like he had lost the Compass of Life. He left the Pokémon Center before any of them could say a word of comfort. Brock and Misty seemed to have known what had happened, and, maybe on some unconscious plane, Ash might have as well. Yet, truth be known, he didn't know. He only knew that something terrible had happened._

_Nurse Joy appeared a few moments later, her face devoid of her usual smile. "Yes. How may I help you?"_

_Brock, after clearing his throat, asked for three beds for the night._

_****_

_Ash couldn't sleep that night, wondering what had happened behind the door. He wanted to know, but neither Brock nor Misty would speak of it. Seeing that Brock and Pikachu were both sound asleep, he carefully crawled out his bed and opened the door._

_The hall was quiet and empty, and Ash carefully shut the door behind him. The floor was cold to his socked feet, but he walked softly towards the reception area, wary of cameras. He didn't want proof of his explorations._

_Rarely did a Nurse Joy lock up anything that's value did not exceed ten dollars. Pokémon Centers were here to help people, and people knew that. They respected that. Team Rocket may try to steal Pokémon—which was why any room housing Pokémon was locked up—but they did not steal the money for funding nor the medicine unless it was to get themselves by. They never took more than what the Center would need to survive._

_He wiped his hand on his pajamas before pushing open the door, looking over his shoulder to see if anyone had appeared. He walked in carefully, flicking on a light. Ash had never been in the Operation room, but it was what he expected, full of stuff that looked medical and expensive. Yet there was nothing that could answer his question, and he turned to go, until he was a door leading out of the room._

_He was through it in moments, walking down a long hall. There was a room filled with Pokéballs in their clear break-proof safes, machines monitoring their health, and a wall full of drawers, each having a clipboard with the patient's status. Ash bypassed the safes and went over to the drawers. With his eyes, he looked over the Trainers' names until he was "Orry, Kyle." He took the clipboard off and struggled to comprehend the medical jargon of the Pokémon, but it was hopeless. The words were longer than his own name and even moreso unpronounceable._

_Ash bit his lip as he continued to try and understand. He looked at the other drawers and their clipboards. Most, it turned out, were blank, but a few were also filled out in explicit medical explanations. Yet he truly didn't understand them. He set the chart down and looked at the drawer._

_With a deep breath, he pulled the drawer open. A rush of cold air bypass his arm, and he looked inside._

_A Furret, laid, set down ever so gently, rested inside. Its head was bandaged heavily. It looked almost peaceful. Ash gulped, turning away as he shut the drawer softly._

_It was dead._

_And he probably, for the rest of his life, going to remember those eyes . . ._

_****_

_In his rented room, Ash struggled not to cry as he started to understand everything, or at least everything that had suddenly come to light. Suddenly estimates of rough math and calculations of average life spans ran through his head . . . Pokémon don't live nearly as long as Humans, at least most of them. Battlers lived even less by at least five to ten years. Someday the same thing was going to happen to Pikachu. She was going to die . . . and not just Pikachu, but to all of them, his friends. Pikachu woke up and curled next to him, understanding, and allowed Ash to hug her as tightly as he wished_

_Brock must have woken up from his quiet sobs. "Ash? Are you all right?" he asked, tired but concerned._

_Ash didn't answer, childish as he was. He struggled to hold the sounds back, pretending to be asleep. Whether Brock knew or not, Ash didn't know, for Brock didn't say another word and he never spoke of the incident._

_****_

_Ash held Pikachu tightly listening to the report. Kyle Orry, Trainer, had died earlier this morning when a car—turning the corner in the dense fog that always plagued the ocean-side city—hit him as he crossed the road. The ambulance members said the Trainer seemed to barely know what had happened to him, that it was happening. The hotel attendant said that the Trainer had wanted time to think and would be back, just leave the door open . . ._

_Ash hoped it was not about suicide as he clutched Pikachu like a life-raft and clicked the TV off._

Oliver sighed, shrugging. "You know what I've always found interesting about society's Pokémon rules?" he asked, rubbing the Golem's head. "If you have a Pokémon under you ownership which is deathly ill, no chance of survival, is in pain, you are ordered to have it put down. And, if you refuse, the officials merely confiscate it and do it on their own without your consent. The one who kills the Pokémon has no charges brought up against them. Yet with a person, who is just as deathly ill and just as much is in pain, they'll struggle to keep that person alive. And the doctor or family or friend that ends the life, they're brought up on murder charges. So parallel, and yet so different."

"That is different," Ash said sharply.

"How?" He looked at Ash from under his eyebrows.

"You can't just kill people!"

"But you just kill Pokémon?"

"Wh—No!"

"So you set up a double standard?"

Ash didn't quite know what a double standard was. "That's just the way life works."

Oliver smiled slowly. "Because Pokémon are under us."

It was a long time before Ash responded, and even then it was slowly spoken. "Speaking for a society, yes . . . But I don't see them that way," he added in a rush. He couldn't see Pikachu as any lesser a creature than any person. She had just as much right to live as himself or anyone.

"How did we even get on this subject?" Oliver asked ruefully. "I come to show you your test, and we end up in a philosophical debate about Pokémon."

Relief washed over Ash. "You mean . . . I don't have to kill him?"

"What! NO! God, do you think I'd make you do a test like that! Doxie would, maybe, but dammit Ash! Me?" Oliver shuddered. "That's what you thought I was getting at?"

"Well, what was I supposed to think?" Ash countered. "You show me this guy and then spew out a Trainer's responsibility for a merciful death to their Pokémon!"

"I did not!"

"Well, your rambling did!"

"Well, sorry to give you the wrong impression! God, don't listen to me so much!"

"You shouldn't let your mouth go on automatic."

"*** as Hell one to talk," Oliver finished angrily, taking Desbrisier's head away from Ash rapidly. "You open you mouth to question things you could just as well wait for themselves to answer themselves, to boast and brag about your minor Pokémon accomplishments. You're an annoying, nosy five-year-old fishing for a compliment!"

Ash's jaw dropped and he clenched his fists. "Hey!"

"Look! You wanna take the challenge or back out now?" Oliver interrupted sharply, through trading insults before they truly got started.

"What is it I have to do?" Ash growled.

"Can you do it?" Oliver challenged harshly, bitterly. "That's the question to be asked, _Trainer_." The title was spat from his lips so venomously. "And if you can't, what are you going to do about it?"

****

Miriam looked up from her magazine, watching as the sky darkened. She pursed her lips together, worry forming. Nah, they were all right. Definitely all right. What, she didn't have to watch them 24-7, did she? Don't answer that.

"Pyro?" she called lightly, sitting up. Her little fox didn't come bounding out. "Pyro?" Louder this time.

***, if there was one creature she didn't have to worry about, it was Pyro, but Miriam worried about her little baby. Well, he was probably out hunting or something. He _was_ probably watching out over those two. Yeah, he was the kind to do that.

Standing up, Miriam crossed her arms tightly over her chest and bit her lip in worry as she looked at the gently flowing river and then the cave.

"What bloody idiots."

She felt very alone as she lit up a fire and settled her meal and nest.

****

"Where's Shan?" Shamin asked as Oliver strolled up, his face clearly stating he had other things on his mind. He didn't respond and passed the two quickly. "Thanks for the answer."

Brighid frowned. "He's probably thinking deeply. It's dangerous in the caverns, and he left Shan out there alone. What, you think Oliver's going to stay with him _all night_?" she demanded when she saw the look on Shamin's face.

Shamin was appalled. "It's his responsibility!"

"His _responsibility_ isn't to make sure the Trainer survives! That's the Trainer's job! His job—"

Shamin jumped up. "You mean Shan could die out there?"

"He could die anywhere, Shamin, but the Pokémon team is only as good as the Trainer. What is he going to do when he's faced with an impossible task?"

"What task?"

"How should I know?" Brighid countered. "Ask Oliver. He's the one giving the test!" She sighed. "Look, there are four tests. Oliver can choose _anything_ that proves the criteria of what each test is supposed to accomplish."

"And what's this criteria?" In the back of her mind, Shamin wondered if this meant that Oliver could give out really easy tasks—ones that _no one_ would fail—for the competing Trainer. Would that be considered cheating?

Brighid sighed. "I don't know."

"Come on!"

She looked helpless and pathetic. "I don't know. I'm not under rulings of the League. Oliver is, and Doxie. And those two certainly have different views on how they'd give the tests. Just like everyone else who wants to be a Trainer here. The thing is, Shamin, they decide the tests, and ultimately what the Trainer learns. They decide what they _think_ the aspiring Trainer needs to learn the most."

Shamin frowned. And what did Shan need to learn, except how to read a map properly? "Oh." Brighid nodded.

"Oliver takes that as a heavy responsibility."

Shamin nodded. Oliver seemed like the type that would.

****

Pikachu looked around the building, at the walls with their tiled murals. She felt lonely, having been left behind, and hence had ran off to actually be alone. Instead, she ended up babysitting Trigger, for the pup suddenly appeared and followed her. He had a bone in his jaws, and Pikachu wondered where it came from. Hopefully not from any Pokémon that would be missing it.

Gee, isn't that like every Pokémon here?

She sighed and studied the artwork. The pictures, although beautiful, made no sense to her. Maybe it was the angle at which she examined them, or maybe the fact that they were nothing important, or maybe because she was a Pokémon trying to understand Humans.

In the back of her mind, Pikachu heard footsteps, rapid and uncaring if heard. She turned her head off-handedly and saw that it was Oliver. A smile lit up her features, but faded when she saw that he was alone. Trigger, the ultimate friendly creature he was, bounded over to him.

Oliver literally jumped back, startled. "Oh, it's you," he sighed, petting Trigger. He removed the bone from Trigger's jaws. "Hopeless."

Trigger made a small attempt to get the bone back, but Oliver held it firmly. Pikachu wondered if he knew to which Pokémon it belonged to and planned to return it. The thought was soon squashed when Oliver turned and threw the bone far down the hall, Trigger after it like a shot.

The Trainer shook his head, chuckling softly. Pikachu blended into the shadows, watching him scan the area. Then she blinked in surprise when Oliver touched a box upon the mural and a part of the wall blended away. He walked in quickly, and, without a thought, Pikachu ran after him.

The wall closed, leaving no chance for second thoughts, and Pikachu found herself in a hall. The Shipozi lit the area well, and Pikachu could see Oliver rushing down. She followed, always careful not to let him hear her. The mouse was in awe as they passed over underground rivers, seeing what looked like miniature Gyarados, Goldeen, Horsea, and other numerous Water element Pokémon. Misty would have gone nuts. So enthralled with them, Pikachu let Oliver get several bends ahead of her.

Her sense of balance told her that she was walking down at an angle, getting deeper under the earth. Her ears and nose also told her that she was nearing other Humans. When her eyes saw them, she literally stopped in surprise.

It wasn't a very big community. No. Maybe once it had been, but now it was dwindled down to a mere hundred families residing in buildings and halls meant to house thousands. As she hid in the hall, glancing out secretively, Pikachu's slow demographic ability soon saw that most of the residents here were old. They weren't the age of her Pikapi, nor even Oliver, but the age of parents whose children would have left the nest and older. True, yes, a few teenagers lolled about, a few youngers, but they were of a small percentage. It occurred to Pikachu that this was a community that wouldn't be around too much longer. It didn't have the strength, the fire. As she sat, she saw her proof as well.

"Ye are not ta leave!" scolded a man to a younger man, gripping his arm. The man shook him off, easily defeating the strength of the elder.

"Lay off, Da. Eh ain't stayin in this tomb another day! And Eh refuse ta die here!"

Pikachu hugged the wall, watching the scene. Oliver had spoken of the poor condition of the League to her Pikapi, hadn't he? He must have. Oliver himself had expressed the interest, the desire to leave. It was only time before the restless generation would leave, and they seemed the ones who deal with the League more than the old ones.

Oliver? Where had he gone to? Pikachu squeaked in panic, unsure of how her presence would be welcomed her. At least if she was with Oliver, she had one who knew who she was. Her eyes and ears didn't pick him up, but her nose found the trail and she slowly emerged. Hiding under boxes and other objects, Pikachu ran until she found the back of Oliver entering a building across the way. Pikachu looked both ways trying to time the right moments as to when to run, but people kept milling past. Finally, in a fit of anger and frustration, going as fast as her little legs could caper, she ran.

There was a doggie dog—probably for one of Oliver's Pokémon—and she dove inside without a care. The difference in light surprised her. Outside, the Shipozi's light was like the sun. Inside it was barely bright enough to see the sparse furniture. It took Pikachu several seconds before she could even make out where she was.

"Pi," she muttered, jumping over Oliver's shoes. The boy had again left her line of sight. If she hadn't waited so long to cross the street!

"Ossie!" snapped a voice, suddenly banging her aside.

Pikachu shook her head rapidly to remove the stars from the surprise attack. Ossa stood poised, growling. (_He doesn't look very shy now!_) "Ka . . ." she grinned weakly, waving and lowering her ears to look less of a threat. Oi, she should have known! Here she was trespassing on another Pokémon's territory! Despite her friendly nature, Pikachu herself had defended her and Ash's home tooth and claw against unwelcomed intruders, and she could image how Ossa would treat her if she didn't do some hefty explaining. Namely, she was going to be a very dead rodent . . .

Ossa's eyes glowed brilliant blue. "Ossen." His teeth were bared, and Pikachu hadn't noticed previously how very sharp they were. Of course, many Pokémon had probably thought the same of her choppers.

She had no wish to fight Ossa, especially when she was the one at fault, because she would deserve everything she received. "_Hello! Please, don't attack! I'm Pikachu! Remember, we met earlier!_"

"_That matters not here!_" Actually, Pikachu thought it did (and should) matter here. She had always lessened her attack if she had previously met the Pokémon. Yet Ossa did not lessen his attack. "_Why're you here?_"

Pikachu put on her prize-winning smile and scratched her head nervously, a habit she had picked up from her Pikapi. "_Well_," she chuckled nervously. "_I was following Oliver because I was bored. But now I think I need his help to get back to my friends. Silly, huh?_" She had also learned to impress people with her stupidity, or at least feigned stupidity. It really was a waste of time to beat up an idiot.

Ossa snorted. "_You are not supposed to be down here_," he stated, releasing his stance. "_You could end up dead_."

She laughed hopelessly. "_Yeah_." _Right_, she added sarcastically.

The Skeletal Pokémon looked at her curiously. "_I'll show you how to get back up. Master is sleeping._"

_"Gee, thanks!_"

Ossa shook his head. "_Come on. And don't touch me._" He leaped through the doggie-door.

****

"_Do you even know where we are?_" Pikachu gasped as she climbed over a large rock. Ossa looked over his shoulder and glared at her.

"_Do you think I'm an idiot?_" he snarled. "_I'm taking you out the back way, away from prying eyes. People here don't like trespassers, and fresh meat is always welcomed._"

Pikachu really didn't believe him, under the prejudice idea that he was getting back at her for following his Trainer.

"_And I'm not lying._"

She jumped, looking at him in shock. "_I didn't say you were_."

Ossa turned his head and grinned at her. Well, he was actually always grinning, but his eyes sparkled a brighter blue. "_Do you think I am merely a Skeletal Type without any other abilities except to fall apart? For your information, mouse, I have yet to fall apart thanks to Master's care. Not many down here can claim _that_._"

"_Really?_"

"_Most Pokémon here are, as you would see them, wild and ready for the capture. Easy captures, might I add. Throwing a Pokéball would capture two-thirds of them. But they are very immune to electric attacks, and are very hungry._" He grinned down at her. "_Fresh meat is a very nice treat . . ._"

"_Don't even try it_," she growled, little sparks escaping her cheeks.

"_Oh do shock away. It only makes the prey ever more easy to catch_." He paused to scratch his nose with his paw, and it made a grating sound that hurt her ears. "_I'm surprised you trust me. Maybe I have brought you this way so no one can hear your screams and attacks_."

Pikachu glared at him, blinking her eyes ever-so slowly as she watched Ossa take his stance . . . and leap . . .

****

Ash head his head as he looked at the pile of rocks in front of him, covering his mouth and trying to think. How . . . how was he to do this task? It was impossible, that what it was, to help Desbrisier.

But Oliver knew that, didn't he?

_"Have you ever felt that all your efforts are futile, that whatever you do is just prolonging the inevitable?"_

_"What do you do when something is hopeless?"_

_"Do you give up?"_

What does he do, Ash wondered. This was an impossible task, there was nothing to be done. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. What, what did he do? Just leave?

Oliver said he could. He could do whatever he want. This was _his_ test, and some tests don't have just one right answer, he'd hinted.

No, Ash shook his head, he wouldn't leave. _Not_ because he thought that was the right choice, the one Oliver would want, but because . . . because staying was the right choice to Ash.

"So," he sighed in a quiet voice. The dead eyes rolled over to him again, and Ash picked up a body part of unknown location or purpose. "So."

The head rumbled in response.

"You know you're going to die . . . piece by piece." Even as he spoke, the part he held in his hand crumbled to dust without his meaning to. "The term dust to dust takes a whole new meaning." He spoke under his breath, covering his mouth, not to be polite, but because of the horror. Ash hated hospitals in general, hated the dying. Death was a scary thing to him.

Ash gulped, looking at the Golem.

"Well, if I was going to die, I know what I'd want." And slowly he stood up and walked over, carefully picking up another piece of rock. "But you'll have to help."

Desbrisier blinked his eyes at him in a way that Ash could only hope was a yes.

****

A clump of mud moved . . . growled . . . and sneezed. Oh, something was going to pay for this.

****

"You can sleep here," Brighid said, waving a hand to a room. Shamin looked at it critically. "I'd stay with you, but well, Lore isn't lenient on some things like this. Nor are my parents."

Shamin nodded, watching as Trigger jumped to the bed gleefully, chewing already on the blankets. She bit her thumbnail. "Do you think, well, do you think Shan'll be all right?"

Brighid smiled. "I don't think Oliver'd put him in a dangerous situation first task, you know. He's not like that. I'll see you tomorrow, right?"

"Of course. Good night, Brighid."

"Night."

Shamin slowly shut the door. It was dim in here, the light of the Shipozi blocked greatly. She sighed and leaned against the door. Maybe she worried for nothing. Shan was a big boy who could take care of himself. (Yeah right.)

"Knock it off, Trigger," she sighed, slipping off her Pokébelt and falling backwards onto the bed. She pushed her puppy away as he licked her face, losing her fingers in his soft fur. "Pity you can't track Shan, eh?"

Trigger raised his head, then suddenly started to bark rapidly, pawing at the door.

"Shh!" she sighed and moaned. "Do go to bed."

The puppy looked pitifully at her, then collapsed to the floor whimpering.

****

Ash looked at his handiwork, rubbing his forehead to remove the sweat. It wasn't very good, some of the pieces were missing, but it was the best. The pieces fused together almost automatically.

"Well," he sighed, collapsing to his butt in exhaustion. "I don't know what to do, you know. You are, sorry to say this, a dead thing living." He had started, over the hours, to speak more bluntly to Desbrisier, and he had the feeling that the Golem preferred it that way. He didn't like being treated as an invalid, fawned over and babied. He was tough and old. In his day, Desbrisier roared and even the Shipozi trembled. It was embarrassing to be cared for like this.

Ash yawned, blinking his eyes. He was tired. "Well, good night, Desbrisier."

Desbrisier rumbled in reply, watching as the boy closed his eyes and slowly drifted asleep. He had been waiting for this for ages, and the boy and inadvertently given it to him. The puny human thought he'd like the gesture. Oh, he liked it all right, he loved it. He was finally able to do it, finally.

In his day, Desbrisier used to crush humans under his heavy limbs and laugh at their squeals, twist his toes in their guts with glee. Once upon an early life, when he roared, even the Shipozi shook with terror. He terrorized travelers, most of which never returned home. And then he learned something called karmic payback . . . Suddenly, when he was old, unable to move as fast as once could, the same puny humans started to beat him with sticks and pelt him with rocks. For the first fifty some years, it was a minor annoyance that changed to a real pain, until one day he shattered. Pieces suddenly fell off, and there was nothing to be done for it.

The same puny humans returned, crushing his body with their boots, laughing cruelly as he tried to frighten them away, or tried to escape. But he couldn't anymore . . . Some humans tried to help, some did, but they were few and fleeting. They stopped coming soon after they found him.

Desbrisier narrowed his eyes, opening his mouth. He could crush this tiny, pathetic human. Oh, to feel the bones snap, even one more time, to feel the blood gush . . . but no, time was fleeting, very fleeting.

Once he was sure the boy was asleep, Desbrisier put plan into action. If not to live for living, if not for revenge, then for the Death . . . the Death of someone, mayhaps even himself. Desbrisier lived to die.

The more painful, the better.

****

Pikachu gasped, rolled aside, and watched as Ossa leaped over she had been into the shadows behind her. A soft scuffle ensued, and suddenly a sickening _CRACK_! With wide eyes, Pikachu watched as Ossa escaped the shadows, scratches across his nose and oozing pale blood.

"_What . . .?_" she gasped, softening in her stance.

Ossa merely grinned at her, rubbing is nose. "_Fresh meat is _very_ welcomed, even by those who should know better. Come on._" He started to walk again.

She followed, closer than she had previously. "_How did you know it was there?_" Her ears, her nose, nothing had alerted her.

"_We're of the same bone, Pikachu. I felt him._"

"_What_?"

"_Don't speak, Mammal, to question what you can't understand. We are nearing the exit,_" he said suddenly. "_We just have to climb up_." With that spoken, Ossa started to jump rocks.

Pikachu looked up before she too started her venture up. There was a tiny opening up there. Trigger surely wouldn't have fitted through, but her and Ossa would have little problem. With that seen, she started up, easily passing Ossa. She was made for such tasks, while the Osteon was not. It did not exhaust him, but it caused an uncomfortable pain. She paused and waited for Ossa on a ledge near the opening.

He was not out of breath as he stepped next to her, but he was not having fun. His eyes were a dark blue in color, and he gave a small shudder. "_Something's going to happen._"

"_What_?"

He paused, collapsing down to breath. "_Someone_," he said slowly, "_is going to die . . ._"

"_What?! My Pikapi?!_" she asked in panic.

Ossa shook his head, as if to clear away the thoughts. "_I don't know! But I can _feel_ it!_" He paused as he stood shakily up. "_I hate these premonitions. They set me so on edge_."

"_Whose to die?_" Pikachu asked in panic.

"_I don't know! But the death deals . . . Revenge, I think. Revenge_." He shuddered again. "_ I must go to Master!_" With that spoken, he leaped through the opening, but suddenly the sound of crashing terracotta and his angered yell forced Pikachu through the opening with haste.

"_OW_" she screamed as her head met the ceiling and she released a bolt. Yet as she rubbed her head, she saw she hadn't hit her head on the low ceiling, on the bars of the cage. In fact, where she stood right over the opening she had so entered by, and did not fail. Ossa stood growling, gnawing at the bars.

"Well, well," cooed a voice, and Pikachu jumped as bars suddenly slid under her feet and the cage was hoisted. "Look what I've caught!"

Doxie grinned at them. "What delightful bait."

****

Oliver floated up to the rafters with a somberness. What he saw would decide whether or not he would give Ash the remaining three tasks. There was nothing to be done with Desbrisier, his parents always said so. Desbrisier was a dead Golem standing, or crumbling, as the case may be.

He wasn't sure what would cause him to give the next task. Oliver had given Ash the task because he wanted someone to do something with Desbrisier, anything. Lore could not touch Ash in whatever he did, because Oliver had given the task, and Ash had to do the task. Was it his fault if Oliver never told him what the task was, left the end open for his own discrimination? No. And as such Lore couldn't harm Oliver, who would plea Giver's Silence and Confidence. It was only between the Trainer and him what the task was, no one else's.

Oliver knew all the loopholes through the Lore.

As he stood on the rafters, he blinked in surprise. The stones of Desbrisier were gone! Ash was sleeping, curled up, and Oliver floated over to him. "Ash! ASH!"

Ash blinked his eyes blearily, opening them to stare at Oliver's frantic face. "Ol . . .Oliver, what's wrong?"

"Where's Desbrisier?!"

"He's right th-th-there," Ash said in mid-yawn. He had perhaps fallen asleep two hours ago.

"WHERE!"

Ash was forced to sit up, and he opened his eyes widely. "Hey! Where'd he go?" he asked stupidly.

Oliver glowered down at him. "That's what I was asking you! Now what did you do with him!"

"I didn't you anything to him!" Ash protested. "I just talked to him a bit, and well . . ."

"Well, _what_?"

Ash rubbed the back of his head. "I kinda put him back together."

Oliver blinked at him. "You did what?"

"I put him together."

His mouth was slightly hanging open. His parents used to put Desbrisier together, but he never held long. No, never, but he always headed back to the city . . . or to the waterfall . . .

"Did I do something wrong?" Ash asked fearfully. "I didn't think he'd actually be able to move! I just thought he'd like to be all together, you know?"

Oliver waved a hand. "Don't worry about it," he mumbled, closing his eyes. The worst he expected Ash to do was chuck the rocks over the side, the best to stay and talk. Not this, not this . . .

So much for open-ended tasks.

"Come on, on to your second task." He touched Ash's shoulder so that the psychic energy flowed over him, and allowed both of them to float to the ground. "And please don't ask what it's going to be."

Ash's mouth snapped shut with a grin. "How about where?" he asked after a moment of silence.

"One day, that mouth will get you in trouble," Oliver warned as their feet touched ground. "Just like that head." He started to walk away.

Ash shuddered. It sounded so much like a prophecy.

****

"Where is Pikachu?" Shamin yawned, looking around the hall. "PIKACHU!"

She frowned when no little mouse was escaping and ready to run into her. Shamin turned to Trigger. "All right, pup. Find Pikachu!" she sighed.

Trigger took off in a shot.

"If Pikachu starts right above our heads." Even as she spoke, Shamin looked up and sighed with relief. There was no Pikachu there.

****

An old man sat by the waterside, looking at the fish and dragons that resided in these waters. Despite his failing eyesight, he could still feel the Pokémon. He rubbed his shoulder. Old wounds that never heal, scars that stand for the deeper meanings than the wound and battle they were . . . won in.

Josh Thomas sighed in defeat. By all nights and all days, maybe he should be dead. Had he the right to live with what he knew, with what he still allowed to happen, and do nothing about it? And yet, and yet he could not bring his heart to stop it. To kill, to end but what would be playful jests?

He sighed yet again, remembered the old days, the days of youth and vigor. He had always resided in these caverns—that had been his saving grace. He was tied to a League, and no League would destroy another so callously, even if the League Master did not mean it to be so, had only meant lark and friendship.

How dangerous power was . . . Josh Thomas shuddered.

Yes, tied to a League he desperately tried to save. Yet he failed. With each passing year, less remained, and he was not a young man anymore. If he was young, he could destroy many of the so-called Masters of many of the popular Leagues, even with second-hand Pokémon. Their titles were folly—they knew nothing of _Master_. Josh Thomas knew, and it was why he never took such a title. To admit such a defeat . . . was everything he learned that worthless that they needed the word Master to make them important? No, he'd stay the humble Trainer till the end of his days, days that were dwindling down to nothing.

He wondered where his resting ground would lie . . . the skies among the stars, or the ground with the hidden beauty? With the flashy, or with the down to earth?

The Trainers that train today. He shook his head. Easy pickings, terribly easy. They would feel the words, the promises . . . and then they'd feel the Death. Years ago, when Pokémon Training meant something more that what it did today, only the strongest would be called to accept the Destiny that was theirs to hold. Josh Thomas shook his head. He was young and fell for such words before, and look what it had cost him. No. But now, now the Trainers were so similar. You couldn't tell the promise of one from the gift of another.

Take the two here. One held the promise, and the other the gift. Both would lead to greatness, perhaps, but they were so similar now. Only the personality dictated the actions now.

For a third time, he sighed. If only to have his youth again, he would go to destroy such a source. Oh, but what a foolish old man he was! How could he do that! What poppycock! Brave words, terribly brave, but no one would ever carry them out! Never!

And then, part of him wondered, thought, pondered . . .

What would happen if someone did destroy the dangerous familiar? What would happen next? Was there a next?

He chuckled, then tilted his head slightly. Whatever was that noise?

He moved his eyes and looked to the ground. A bit of dirt was moving.

"Hallo, 'ere? What be you doing in caverns such as these? So deep? And you so muddy," he mused lightly.

The mud looked up and stared at him with blood-red and blood-shot eyes. It growled bitterly.

"I see," Josh Thomas smiled.

Suddenly the mud sneezed, sending a dastardly huge fireball at him. Josh Thomas didn't even blink or react when the light and fire engulfed him. The mud stared with wide eyes at what he saw, recoiling at the sight. He hadn't meant to . . .

****

"Trigger! I wish you'd slow up!" Shamin wailed as they ran through the turns of the caves. By now she was lost, and she really hoped Trigger _did_ know where he was going.

The Growlithe had at least slowed down, feeling antsy. A soft growl was escaping his throat, and stopped as if shielding Shamin from something.

"What's wrong, Trigger?" she asked wearily. Then suddenly she screamed as a giant Golem started to thunder towards her, the ground shaking madly. Trigger barked furiously, and with the echoes and the vibrations, the cave started to collapse.

****

Desbrisier looked at his work like one would done a job well-done, and evil smile upon his face. He had lost precious rocks, but that wasn't important. Yes, safe, safety was what mattered, and it was ensured. None could get through that stone wall, and none could leave by this route.

He took a deep smell. Yes, he had not made mistake. The scent mingled with the originals, and he would not forget that smell. He would not do something intentionally that would cause pain for that owner, not with what he owed. But let's not forget. His plan was in action, and _nothing_ must stop it, not even debt.

Yet it would have been nice to kill the girl, or at least the pup . . .

Desbrisier threw back his head, ignoring the flakes that fell, and gave a mighty resounding roar.

****

Shipozi, on their walls and nooks and crannies, shuddered.

****

Doxie looked at the mask of rocks that blocked his way with disgust, turning on his heel. Pikachu and Ossa growled at him from within their cage, but he gave them no mind.

How was he to get his vengeance on that twerp if he couldn't even get to him! He fingered his Pokébelt anxiously. Of insults received, they would be given back ten-fold.

****

"Oliver! Oliver!" Brighid screamed, running to her brother.

Her brother looked at her harshly. "Brighid! We are in the middle of a task!"

Ash looked at the young redhead almost as angrily, pausing from staring intently at the hole in the cavern wall.

Brighid jumped up and down. "You don't understand! There's been a cave-in!" she squealed in panic. "Shamin's in there!"

"What?" Ash cried, so sharply and in panic, jumping up from his couched position.

"Come on!" Brighid screamed, running away towards the cave-in. Oliver and Ash followed, task forgotten. The Pokémon breathed relief as its head escaped the nook, then tended to its eggs again, doting the little dears. Imagine, them believing she'd . . . she'd, well, whatever they were planning to do, she wasn't going to let them do it!

She ducked her head out again and saw a piece of meat. Hungrily, she gobbled it up.

****

They moved the stones with quiet, panicky haste. No one spoke, no one vented worries or beliefs. They just moved on a staggering automatic.

They were the only ones who came. Indeed, they were the only ones who knew of the cave-in. Of course, if everyone did know, they would still be the only ones clearing the way. The League wasn't heartless, but nor were they neighborly. The people would acknowledge that the poor girl was trapped, but under their rationalization she was not of them and was foolish to go into the caves.

Ash had instantly reeled back his hand, a Pokéball in his grasp, but Oliver had gripped his wrist. "It won't do any good," he spoke. "We must do this by hand."

"But the Pokémon—"

"Ash, for once in your life, listen when someone tells you something!"

He had, reluctantly, put the Pokéball back with such confusion and anger, then attacked the rocks, whipping them aside. His fingers and hands were soon bleeding, and they stung, but Ash gave them no mind. His head pounded at the temple where his day-old wound still remained fresh, and, from the exertion, had started to bleed a small trickle.

Who really knew how long they dug? However long it was, their clothes sticking to them from sweat and brows glistening, Brighid finally gave the strangled cry of relief when she removed a rock and found orange fur.

"Here!" she cried, waving them over.

The two men attacked the spot with the young girl, energies renewed, and within moments had managed to drag an unconscious Trigger away. Oliver took a quick look at him, pressing his body here and there, feeling the pulse. "He'll be fine, I think," he spoke finally. "Growlithe are tough, resilient. Come on, we have to get the others."

Within seconds they found Shamin, and Ash gave a strangled cry as Oliver pulled her out. Bruises were upon her skin everywhere, clothing ripped because of the jagged rocks, blood trickling in slow streams caked with dirt. "Shamin?" he whispered, collapsing to his knees and Oliver gave her a check-over.

She moaned painfully when he touched her shoulder, and her eyes fluttered open. "Sh-shshh—"

"Shh," Ash whispered. "You'll be fine, all right. Promise." He looked back at the hole they had been digging, where Brighid, too horrified to look at Shamin, was still excavating. "Was Pikachu with you?" A touch of guilt bit him that he wasn't looking for her, but he pushed it aside for a moment. "Was she?"

Her eyes fluttered. "Nnn . . ." She didn't finish. "Trigger?"

"He's fine, don't worry," Ash laughed slightly. She still thought about that dumb mutt even in her condition. Ash knew he wasn't one to talk, but it broke ice. "Don't worry."

Oliver leaned down at her. "What caused this?" he asked carefully.

"Big . . . golem?"

Ash froze. Could she mean Desbrisier? Did that golem do this? If he had, then this . . . this was all his fault.

"Come on, we have to get her to the Infirmary," Oliver said silently, kneeling down. "I'll—"

"No!" Ash said sharply. "I'll carry her. You get Trigger." This was all his fault . . .

Oliver near-glared at him, but didn't counter, going to get the Pokémon. Brighid was standing awkwardly, having heard that her task was pointless. Carefully Ash scooped Shamin up, wincing at her moans and started to follow the two Trainers.

This was all his fault . . .

Not just Desbrisier, but he took Shamin along, and Trigger. If it wasn't for him, Shamin would still be at the Tunnels, and Trigger . . . okay, Trigger could be considered better off, since he'd be dead. But what did that matter now, because they both could die. They could have died! Thanks to him.

His fault . . .

****

"It wasn't your fault," Oliver said softly after they left the Infirmary. Well, he had dragged Ash out.

Ash barked a cruel laugh. "Ha! That was Desbrisier that caused that, and you know it. If I hadn't—"

"Give up with the self-blaming, already. Things happen, you can't be responsible for everything that happens when you thought it. Chaos effect, Ash!"

"What?" he asked bitterly.

"Just because the Butterfree flaps its wings in the Orange Islands doesn't mean it's responsible for the storm in the Riversden! You can't be responsible if you do something pert to your nature," Oliver sighed.

"It still got them hurt. If they die—"

"Then they die," he said sharply. "People _die_, Ash, and just because you were with them doesn't mean _you're_ responsible for their deaths. What you did in good faith isn't—"

"But it is, Oliver! It is my fault! They are my responsibility! They don't have any idea what's going on, so I have to watch out for them!"

"All the time? Ash, you're a Trainer, not a babysitter! If you're going to feel this way, you'd best lose all your friends, and then your Pokémon. They're going to die as well, you know!"

Ash shook his head bitterly. "I gotta find Pikachu."

Oliver gripped his arm. "She's probably fine."

"Probably?" Ash repeated sarcastically.

The Trainer shook his head. "That isn't the least of your worries. You still have to complete the Tasks."

"To Hell with the Tasks! Do you think being a Master means more to me than my friends?!"

Ash watched as Oliver blinked slowly at him, then smiled, shaking his head. "Come on, then. We can take a back way to that cavern. I figure Trigger was trying to trail Pikachu, hence why the mouse wasn't with them. She probably doesn't even know what's going on, probably dozed off waiting for them." With that, Oliver started to walk off.

"Hey, Oliver?" Ash said, catching stride. The Trainer looked at him sideways. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it. Just do me a favor and remember what you say."

"Wha—" _no questions_—"okay . . ."

****

Carefully, almost hesitant and totally against his nature, he approached the wounded. He felt near guilty. He hadn't meant to do that, really he hadn't . . . As if to prove the point, he sneezed again.

Yet what worried him, what caused amazement and wonder, was the death. Not a scream, not a writhe in agony . . . nothing. If he hadn't felt so guilty, he would have been insulted. That was a *** good fireball. Carefully he approached and sniffed the body, then growled when his nose was so stuffed up that he _couldn't_ smell. He examined the corpse, leaping onto the lap.

It didn't _look_ like the old man had actually _died_ from the accidental attack. The body should be burnt to a crisp. It wasn't, and it was further insult to him. It made him look like an amateur. He shook his head bitterly, sniffing the face, then remembering that he couldn't smell. He hated colds. He continued to examine the corpse. He felt he owed the man that much . . .

Suddenly he heard the sounds of rocks and footsteps, of breathing and voices . . . and he recognized one of those voices. Blondie! He whirled and jumped down. About time! He really, really needed to bite someone he _knew_ deserved it! (For what, it really didn't matter.) He did a sort of jig and made to run off deeper into the caverns . . .

It really was a dastardly surprise when something grabbed him by the nap of the neck and hefted him up. He blinked his blood-red eyes in shock and he looked at his capturer, who wore the twisted smile of glee.

Pyro shuddered.

This man, aside from other things that Pyro now deemed unimportant (Pyro was able to deem many things unimportant that were, in the grand scene of things, unimportant), was most definitely a few flames short of a roaring blaze. Yes, most definitely mad.

****

Ash narrowed his eyes pointing next to the waterway. "What's that?"

"I have no idea," Oliver said softly, stopping to crouch next to the rock.

"Why are you hiding?"

Oliver sighed looking up at Ash. How could he describe why he hide in the caverns, his home? He knew something was wrong. So, instead, he looked back at what set his nerves the wrong way.

They were near the waterfall. They were, if this was a map and them drawings, actually at the waterfall. The underground rivers, ever-so many of them, combined at this area, one of the from over their heads and behind the very walls they stood next to. Who knows, in a millennia or so, the wall would be gone and would hence allow the river to flow where they stood. Yet high over their heads, behind the "wall", ran a river. It twisted around and around, only escaping through a small of an opening a little over a hundred yards away. Yet the water escaped with such force . . . it was beautiful, ever-flowing, and deadly. It flowed faster, crashed down to their level for a few more hundred yards, then roared down again to deeper levels, a staircase of waterfalls. Sometimes he wondered if they all were the same river that flowed over the crevice.

Now they had to be careful to step over the small rivers, sticking to the small ledge bridges. The water mirrored the caverns perfectly, making it seem like it wasn't water there at all. An optical illusion, one that Oliver was long used to. The water was clean and clear if one were to cup it in his hands, but deep and cold, as the caves. Caves, even in the dead of winter, stayed only around fifty degrees Fahrenheit, and the water reflected that as well. Too long in the water and one went hypothermic.

Upon the rocks was a Tibuma sleeping. So maybe he lied to Ash when he said he didn't know. Any idiot—present company excluded—could tell that from a distance. Yet why was it next to the water? Skeletal had to be careful. Although the water wouldn't immediately hinder them, it would cause the bones to decay.

"Is it safe?" Ash asked, fingering a Pokéball, lest the creature should attack.

Oliver sighed. That would be an interesting, not to mention short, battle. "It's not wild, if that's what you mean," he said, standing. "Come on."

Yet he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. He didn't know what, but something was.

As they approached the Tibuma, the Pokémon raised its head and looked blearily at them.

"Is that . . ." Ash started, then stopped, feeling foolish at the question. There were probably hundreds of captured Tibuma in these caves. But yet, as he looked at the Pokémon, he was so certain. He would gamble one of his own Pokémon that it was the Pokémon he thought of.

Oliver picked up the started question, and he stared intently at the Tibuma. Ash had the under-nourished gift, just from reading the dossier on him from past Leagues Oliver learned, to know Pokémon by sight. A rare Trainer could do that, and if Ash could hone that skill . . . Oliver shook his head. This was no time to think of shop. He looked at the Pokémon. There were only twenty-some captured Tibuma, and he should be able to know them by sight. Yet, up until now, he never found the skill necessary or practical.

He narrowed his eyes. There . . . upon the jawbone . . . gentle scratches . . .

"It's Doxie's," Ash said surely, ignoring his pride if he was proven wrong.

"Aye . . ." Oliver drawled slowly. Doxie was notorious for leaving his Pokémon unattended, letting them wander the caves. Of course, he did so as well, but he _knew_ they were unattended and in the caves. And, as such, knew if they were missing or in trouble if too much time passed. Doxie never did, and more than once Oliver had rescued a Pokémon of his rival's. The term, although grossly exaggerating how he felt about Doxie, fit his role. "Come on. It might be hurt."

They walked carefully, in case the Tibuma was hurt and afraid.

They shouldn't have wasted the feeling.

Something screamed in pain, and it was followed by a "EONOS!"

Oliver gasped, whirling and looked up towards the cry. "Ossa!?"

Ash heard someone swear—the words were lost in the rush of water—but he saw Doxie standing there with a heavily bleeding forearm that clutched a familiar neck.

"PIKACHU!" he yelled. "Put her down!"

Doxie glared down at them. The stupid mouse and bones! He should have known something was up. Like just at that moment a Pokémon would have had a seizure! He should have obeyed his better instinct and not checked. The second his arm had been in the sound-blocking cage, the rat had bitten deeply and the bones had screamed warning.

"NOW!" he screamed.

The Tibuma opened her mouth and let out a low resonating cry. Ash and Oliver gripped their heads in pain, but that was not the wanted effect, which came later and the ground below crashed into water-logged caverns ten feet below. He frowned, not as deep as he wished, but it served purpose.

"Pika—!" Pikachu gasped, wiggling.

"Do you worst," Doxie growled, barely noting her grin. (Electric-types were ever-rare in the caves.)

"Pi."

****

Ash and Oliver crashed into the ice-cold water.

"What's going on?" Ash demanded, clutching the wall and trying to climb up.

"I don't know. Ahh, I think I twisted my arm here," Oliver groaned. Even still, he tried to find purchase on the mud-slick wall.

"Here," Ash grunted, holding out a hand. "Stand on these rocks and I'll give you a boost. No way you can get me up with one of your arms messed up."

"I beg to differ," he grinned, but followed orders, standing upon the very rocks along with Ash that had once been floor. Ash rested his back against the wall and formed a step. "Don't mind me if I step on your head."

Ash grinned, remembering times earlier when it had been stepped on without such pleasantries. "Don't worry about it," he grunted, hoisting the Trainer up. His sneakers started to slide on the wet rocks. "Hurry up."

"Trying!" Oliver snapped, attempting to grab the rim of the hole and pull himself up, bad arm or no. He suddenly noted that his support was gone as Ash slid away with a yell, and then a cry of pain. "Ash?" Even if he was concerned, his feet struggled for even the smallest purchase.

He groaned, clutching his head. "I'm . . . fine." He ignored the red water, or tried to, as he climbed back up and started to push up on Oliver's feet. "There!"

Oliver slid out of view and Ash slumped into the water, his head swimming in pain.

"Ash! Come on now," Oliver ordered, fiddling with a Pokéball and trying to dry out the circuits as he looked at Ash. "Hang in a moment! *** you, you'd better wake up!" he yelled at the Pokéball. The Pokéball shook in his grasp. "About time! Get him!"

The Pokéball gave a shudder, akin to a sigh, then started to glow at Oliver's glare. Within moments Ash floated up, dripping wet and shivering. Well, he himself was wet and dirty, the mud covering him head-to-toe.

"Pikapi!" Pikachu yelled, running down and hugging Ash tightly.

"Eonos!" Ossa cried just as gleefully, pawing at Oliver's feet.

Oliver looked back at the ledge. "Where's Doxie?" he demanded the two Pokémon, who shrugged. After Pikachu had Thundershocked him, they both had ran to their Trainers. His question was answered within a few seconds as the two Pokémon turned and growled, backs arching simultaneously.

"Well, well," Doxie said rather calmly, considering he had just been shocked for the first time with a few thousand volts of Pissed Pikachu.

"What's going on, Doxie?" Oliver demanded, helping Ash to his feet as the boy pressed his hand to his forehead and scalp.

Doxie crossed his arms, snarling. "Nothing that hasn't been deserved by such insults." The Tibuma stood at his side, loyal to the Master.

"What insults?" Ash growled.

"This isn't because Ash dissed your Pokémon?" Oliver asked sharply. "Doxie, even for you, that's pathetic!"

He bristled, clutching his arm. "Is it, now?" he hissed. "One to talk for pathetic, eh? Look at your Tasks."

"Like yours would have been any better!" Oliver sneered. "You'd have had each Task a battle, the whole goal to win. You know it wouldn't work!"

"Better than yours."

Ash growled. "You want a Battle. Fine," he snarled, grabbing a Pokéball. "Bulbasaur, go!"

"No!" Oliver yelled, but it was too late. Ash had thrown the Pokéball, which Doxie caught defiantly with his wounded arm. Ash reeled in shock.

"What happened?"

Doxie smirked, examining the Pokéball. "Your Pokéballs don't work in these caverns, or did Olly forget to mention that to you? Something in the rocks, I suppose. It's why our Pokéballs are different than yours."

"Give me back my Pokémon!"

"Pika!" Pikachu agreed, standing ready to deliver another shock towards the *** who held her friend.

Doxie's eyes flashed something, maybe fear, but he smirked, squeezing the ball. Ash's eyes widened as he saw the plastic contract. "I don't think so. And if your rat shocks me, I'll crush and kill it."

Pikachu growled louder, but backed off slowly. Doxie nodded slightly.

"What's your problem?" Ash demanded hotly, anger seething, his temple pounding.

"He's nutter, that's his problem," Oliver snipped.

"Really?" There was an icy chill in his voice. "I wasn't the one who never showed up for the Challenge."

"That's no proof of sanity."

He chuckled softly, and both Ash and Oliver looked at each other with that knowing look. "Here's a guy a few shocks short of a Pikachu" and "Oi, he's a few bones short of a skeleton" ran through their respective heads. "Why didn't you ever show up?"

Oliver's head jerked backwards. "I didn't show up . . . because I chose not to," he said slowly, and Ash knew he was glossing it over.

His hand tightened around the Pokéball. "Why?"

"That's none of your business."

"I'm making it mine."

"I didn't show up because I was doing something a bit more important."

"You were afraid," Doxie smirked, "of me."

Again Doxie gripped his Pokébelt, and Ossa growled bitterly. "Don't place any bets on _that_."

"Really? Then what were you doing?"

Oliver's lips formed a tight line and he didn't answer.

"Do you know what everyone was saying? No, of course _you_ don't. Everyone says I stopped you from coming, that _I_ was afraid you'd win. Oh, how I laughed at that."

"I imagine you did," Ash said dryly, eyeing his Pokéball.

Doxie glared at him. "Of course, everyone else believed that I did something to you, but that's what you wanted, wasn't it? To make them doubt me. And when that ***'s dog surprised me—"

"It was a Growlithe!" Oliver snapped bitterly. "If you paid attention to—"

"To what?" At that, Oliver fell silent, and Ash wondered _how_ Oliver knew what a Growlithe was, having spent his entire life in the caves. "I thought so. You know, I think I would like a battle." He threw the Pokéball up and caught it, knuckles white.

"No," Oliver said lowly, even as Ossa snarled forward. The Pokémon skidded to a stop and looked at his Trainer with wide eyes.

"Oss?"

"I don't battle to make or break names."

Doxie snarled a laugh. "No. You just don't attend them."

"Come on, Ash," Oliver said coldly. "We found Pikachu. Good thing Ossa was looking after her." He smiled fondly at the Pokémon, who sat rightly pleased.

"_Pi_," Pikachu said, oozing sarcasm.

"Pikachu," Ash warned softly. "Let's go check on the others." Pikachu looked at him questionably, but Ash spoke to Doxie before she could voice it. "My Pokéball. Please."

Doxie snarled at him, eyes glistening. "No, _Trainer_." Again the title was spoken like a curse, mocking and demeaning.

"Doxie!"

"If he wants the Pokémon back—"

Oliver brushed past Ash and stood up to Doxie, several inches too short and too puny to win a hand-to-hand fight. "You have no right to demand such things. Give him the Pokémon back."

Ossa had also strolled over to Tibuma. Like their Trainers, one was visibly strong than the other, but this time the sides were reversed. Ossa was obviously the victor in any fight that should happen, but the Tibuma stood as calmly as Oliver did as he confronted Doxie. It was like both parties were playing a careful dance, one dance done many times before and both knew what was to expect.

It must have been a terrible surprise when the dance changed.

Doxie's fist shot out and connected with Oliver's jaw, and he lunged, tossing the Pokéball aside. The Pokémon looked just as shock as Ash as the two rolled, fighting.

"Get off him!" Ash yelled, rushing over to try and pry Doxie off.

"Pika!" Pikachu started, but Ash sent her the look that said no. Oliver was wet and such a shock would prove fatal.

Ossa and Tibuma also now rolled in fight, and neither was gentle. The Tibuma was bigger, so bigger than Ossa couldn't get his jaws around the bones to crush them, but Ossa was far healthy by care and creation. Even still, Pikachu went over and tried to help them, while Ash struggled to get Doxie off Oliver, receiving just as many blows.

What no one really noticed was that they were rolling towards one of the crevices.

****

Pyro ran as fast as he could through the winding corridors. He glanced over his shoulder, eyes wide in surprise. How? But he did not heed his pace.

The fox didn't know how the guy knew what he did, but that didn't mean he doubted it.

One may be mad, but that doesn't mean that one is stupid.

And this guy, whatever he was, was not stupid.

****

Desbrisier stalked up the walkway, one leg limping pitifully. He was almost there, almost there.

His ears could hear the sounds of the struggle echoed in the passageways, and he nose could smell the fighters. He shuddered with delight. He smelt blood, oozing, beautiful, fresh, tasty blood. Oh, to run that way and join the fight, to crush both sides. Oh so tempting, so lustful, so appetizing . . .

And yet, he couldn't. He was too weak . . .

He hated himself for being so pathetic.

****

Ash hit the wall with a grunt, momentarily stunned. Whatever _had_ to be said about Doxie, it was that he *** Hell knew how to fight, and he had the strength to do it. Oliver wasn't so sloppy either, but it was a losing battle. He groaned, blearily watching the two struggle and roll. He tried to stand, but collapsed painfully, clutching his head.

He closed his eyes momentarily, to gather his senses . . . he didn't open them again.

****

All three of the Pokémon looked up from their battle when their Trainers yelled in surprise, and Tibuma was the first to rush over to the crevice.

There, hanging there were both trainers, bloody, bruised, and battered. Somehow they had managed to roll apart and grab separate holds. Behind them the waterfall roared, deafening their screams at each other.

Pikachu could see that Oliver was the one worse off. His arm—strained before—was now close to being obsolete to use. His Pokébelt was gone, lost in the midst of the fight, and he was slowly losing his grip and slipping down.

Doxie, on the other hand, was not nearly as bad off. His physical condition even benefited his hold, having the strength to actually climb up the far easier route. While Ossa and Pikachu fretted over Oliver, Tibuma leaped up and down with happiness that her Trainer was able to escape such a situation.

"_Hold on, Master!"_ Ossa ordered, prancing around with a nervous, helpless air. "_Hold on!_"

"_What can we do?"_ Pikachu fretted, yanking her ears. "_None of Pikapi's Poké—Pikapi!_" Suddenly remembering about _her_ Trainer, Pikachu scampered over to him and pushed against his side. "_Wake up, Pikapi!_" He didn't. "_Pikapi!_" In a panic, she shocked him, despite his dampness, but it did no good.

Ossa ignored much off Doxie as the Trainer crawled over the edge, sparing only a moment to growl before going back to coaxing his Trainer to keep trying. Despite his knowledge that Doxie disliked him and his Trainer, Ossa didn't actually think that the Trainer would continue his murderous rage. He even figured that Doxie might even help now. By now surely some sense had been rammed into that thick skull that Oliver _could_ die.

Doxie did, in fact, look down at Oliver with a touch of concern, but he shrugged it off as he turned away. He looked around, wiping back the blood with the back of his hand. He felt nervous, edgy, but anything to stop the tongues from wagging. He'd show the who actually was the better Trainer, if only by default. He worked too hard to let some chicken-Trainer stop him.

His eyes paused over the visiting Trainer, still unconscious despite his Pokémon's attempts to revive him.

Doxie put on a slight smile, fixed his tunic and looked back over the crevice with a detached look. He wasn't actually watching someone die . . . no . . . not that.

Why, that would be murder if he didn't do anything.

****

Oliver had looked up for a moment. It was better than looking at the crashing water below.

His arm was giving out, and blood-drenched bangs stuck to his face and clouded his vision. He could barely breathe through his nose.

He almost wished he hadn't looked up, hadn't seen that faraway look on Doxie's face as the fellow Trainer looked down. The eyes were vacant, like a Pokémon doped up on tranquilizers, but Doxie wasn't fool enough to go nipping drugs. No, the look was one of denial, of delusion, of dreams shattered.

Oliver suddenly had the feeling that slipping of out of the caverns during the match to get some local flora for his Pokémon, and maybe meeting up with Janice, didn't affect him as individually as he thought . . .

He was such an idiot to have thought otherwise.

****

When he was younger, a mere pebble of his present size, the mists hadn't affected him so, Debrisier thought bitterly as the clouds condensed onto his skin.

Yet now . . . now layers of rock peeled and fell away from him like old paint, flakes too large to be ignored. If he had weak, puny Human flesh, the wounds would be akin to blisters one would receive after a fire—dangerous, infectable, painful, life-threatening, scarring.

What did he care about simple scars, about pain, infection? What does not kill you makes you stronger, Desbrisier always held that ideal dear, for it was so true. Of course, he also understood the mirror—that which doesn't kill you may destroy you. But mirrors were meant to be broken so that the fragments would reflect another truth.

That which does kill you can be a lot of fun before it does.

The voyage to Death was very enjoyable, not as in pleasure cruises, but to prove that he could still take it, still dish it out, still was stronger than others thought.

He could see the waterfalls ahead and grinned.

"_Yo, Rock-Boy_," drawled a voice.

Desbrisier paused in his stride, a difficult task, not because his muscles didn't want to, but because of his inertia. He looked around. "_Who spoke?_"

The ground below him moved. "_I know what you're going to do._"

"_Do you plan to stop me, Mud Spot?_"

The ground bristled. "_Of course not_," it growled as it turned. "_That would be pathetic, saving _you_. A coward._"

"_Coward?_" Desbrisier repeated with forced calmness.

Mud Spot looked and snarled. "_Yes, coward. I always view suicides as cowardliness. You can't take life._"

"_I can take Death. Could you_?"

"_Am I afraid of the Unknown that follows, you mean? Only idiots aren't afraid . . . Idiot._" It shook its head. "_Yet don't let me stop you, Rocky._" It started to walk, then paused as if in thought. "_You know, maybe there is a honorable suicide, but I have yet to find it. Yet I do know there is honorable Death. Of course, as to what _that_ is is left to your own discretion. And if you'll excuse me._"

The Mud Spot disappeared, going into a run and leaping over the edge.

_The world's full of hypocrites_, Desbrisier thought sardonically.

****

"_Master!_" Ossa pleaded. "_Try again, please_."

"_Come on, Pikapi! Wake up!_"

Ossa whirled. "_Why do you not help him!_" he demanded both the Tibuma and Doxie.

"_Your Trainer deserves it,_" Tibuma sniffed. "_Do you know what they say? That Master threatened yours not to show up? Yours is the coward, and is getting his just dessert."_

_"Does that constitute murder_!" Ossa shrieked_. "Because of wounded Pride! What would you have had him do, battle with ill Pokémon? That would have been a no better battle!"_

Tibuma laughed. "_How foolish to allow one's Pokémon get ill before a known Battle! He is either too careless to be a Trainer, or too cowardly!_"

The Osteon didn't have time for a counter, for suddenly something landed right behind him and scrambled to get over the crevice.

****

Desbrisier smiled and started to run . . .

****

"_PYRO!_" Pikachu yelped, seeing through the mud at the blood-red eyes.

Suddenly the ground started to shake.

Pyro sneezed in disgust. _"He didn't even listen! RUN!_" With a staggering nimbleness, he ran forward, then stopped, grabbing Ossa by the femur. "_Come on!_"

Ossa pulled away, but was surprised at the strength of the mud creature. "_My Train—!"_

The light of the Shipozi was blocked out by the huge jumping boulder.

"_Run!_"

This time Ossa made no counter, slipping between Doxie's legs as the Trainer and Pokémon looked up in an awe-inspired shock as the boulder fell.

****

It was clear that he had been aiming to jump into the waterfall, to get that distance that Pyro had, but he had been too heavy to make it that far. The Pokémon all turned to look away as chunks went flying, Pikachu doing her best to protect Ash. There was a hollow in the ground, the force of impact having caused the floor to collapse down a level. Already water was starting to fill it because of a tiny trickle.

Tibuma had been crushed and killed on contact, Oliver no better, if worse. Tibuma have so very little blood . . . Humans, Trainers . . . water is not red.

"_I guess I'm not the diplomat I thought I was,_" Pyro said with a lightness that belied the situation.

"_Pyro!_" Pikachu scolded, paws into little balls. "_They died!_"

He sneezed, then shook his head. "_Of course. Shouldn't expect them to live through _that."

Ossa backed up slowly. "_My, my Trainer . . ._" he murmured, creeping back over to the crevice expecting the worst.

Pyro sniffed, trying to breathe. "_So what happened to Blon—_"

"_He's still here!_" Ossa yelled in excited disbelief. "_Please help!_"

"_We have to wake Pikapi up!"_ Pikachu rushed, jumping on her Trainer. "_We can't reach!_"

Pyro sneezed again, accidentally blowing fire at Pikachu's ears. He didn't bother to apologize, because he wouldn't mean it. "_That's _not_ how you wake up Blondie. All you do is merely . . ._" He trailed off, moving to a location, and bit down, hard.

Ash gave a yelped, his eyes fluttering open and tears stinging his eyes.

Pikachu, although aghast that Pyro had done such a thing, hugged his head and then tried to push him up. "_Pikapi!_"

"Wha—" he slurred, fighting blackness.

"_You have to help Oliver!_" Pikachu cried.

"Pyro . . what are you doing here, and all dirty? Miriam's not going to like—ow!"

"_Would you wake up!_" Pyro snapped nasally.

"Are you sick?"

"_PIKAPI!_" Pikachu yelled, shocks escaping her cheeks. "_Oliver needs help!_"

****

"I can't reach him that far," Ash said dumbly, clutching his head. "We need a few more feet."

Ossa paced nervously, looking between Ash and at his Trainer, who was looking up at them as patiently as one could in a circumstance such as this. He took great pride that his trainer didn't scream and yell and plead for help, knowing it wouldn't benefit their condition. "_We don't have time to rush to shops to get rope. We need—"_

Ash suddenly looked at Pyro. "We need you, fox."

Pyro instantly backed away, understanding, seeing where that gaze went, growling. "_No_."

Pikachu and Ossa didn't quite understand, but looked at Pyro.

"_Please, Mud . . . Thing,_" Ossa pleaded, still rather unsure of what Pyro actually was. Face it, the fox _was_ still covered in mud.

"_Come on, Pyro!_" Pikachu urged.

"Don't you want to be the hero?" Ash grinned quietly.

Pyro looked wildly around, then down at the Trainer below, and then up through the entrance he'd jumped though only a few minutes before. A shadow moved. "_Not my tails!_" he wailed, sitting down and curling them under him protectively.

The other two Pokémon clicked and looked at him with their pleading eyes. "It's the only way," Ash sighed, knowing exactly what was going to happen to whomever held the fox.

"_I HATE TRAINERS!_" Pyro screamed, stomping his paw.

"_Pyro!_"

"_But . . . but they're my TAILS!"_

"Pyro . . . be a hero!"

Pyro lowered himself down and narrowed his eyes. "_I __**hate**__ you!"_

****

"_If he touches me, I'll kill him_," Pyro growled warningly at Ossa. "_I will. __**Do not touch me**__!"_

****

Oliver stopped bringing his hand up to pet the fox. "You guys should stay."

Shamin shook her head. "No. Miriam'll be worried sick."

"But look at you!" Brighid countered. "You guys almost died."

"We know," Ash said dryly, then held out his hand.

Brighid looked up sternly at them, running her hands over Trigger's fur. "A few hours in the Hospital Wing, even _with_ the medicine and regeneration, does not mean you're all better!"

Ash ignored her. "Good luck on your Training, Oliver."

"You too," Oliver agreed, taking it.

"Personally, I don't think you should have let him win," Shamin stated and her pup limped over towards her and sat down. "He didn't do the four tasks. Ran out on the second one, and you didn't even give him the third or fourth."

"Chupi!"

"Nine tal nin ninetale," Pyro snapped.

"CHU!"

Oliver shook his head. "Shamin, tests and tasks are just that. They mean nothing. It's what you do, not why you do it. And, in my mind, he won." Then he grinned. "Besides, from what I read, this Trainer here never actually wins by the rules anyway."

"Hey!" Ash protested. "I do—"

"Shut up," Shamin snapped, ignoring Ash's expression. "We've got to go find Miriam. And no offense, but I want to get out of here!"

Ash paused. "So _she_ can kill us? I mean, look at Pyro!" Everyone looked at the tiny, mud-covered, sneezing, and generally really peeved fox, his tails wrapped in bandages and not as fluffy as they once had been.

"He's still alive," Oliver said pointedly, ignoring the fireball-sneeze.

"Then he's better off than we'll be!"

Brighid moved her feet shyly. "Shamin?"

"Yeah?"

"Here!" The girl handed over a Pokéball before she lost the nerve. Trigger suddenly gave an excitable yelp and tried to jump up and sniff the ball, despite his wounds. "It's a Cubone! I found it this morning!"

"Bet it's the same one you and Trigger were hassling," Ash said as he surveyed Trigger, although he was ignored.

"Oh, they're so cute!" Shamin said gleefully. "Cool Pokéball too! Much better than our red ones. Thank you, Brighid! Trigger, _DOWN_!"

The girl's cheeks flushed. "Oh, no problem."

"We'd better be going," Oliver drawled, interrupting the scene.

Brighid looked thoughtful, then turned towards her brother. "Don't you get cursed for like a thousand years if you pull a Ninetales' tail?"

Oliver raspberried. "That's silly superstition. Come on, well show you the easiest way ou—ow!" As he turned, he tripped on a rock.

Pyro grinned wickedly.

****

"Oh, my god! What happened to ya!?" Miriam screamed.

"Miriam, we're fin—" Shamin started.

"My poor little baby," she purred, scooping up her fox and walked away a bit, doting Pyro and giving soft little murmurs.

Ash looked at Shamin. "I'm glad to see how _we_ rate on her importance scale," he said satirically, watching as a whining Trigger followed Miriam, trying to get some of her attention showered unto him. "Top of the list."

Pikachu smiled at her Trainer and friend. "Pi, Pikapi."

Shamin rubbed her bandaged head, a headache coming on as the Ossature painkillers moved through her system. "Just give her a little time. She'll kill you eventually."

He nodded slightly, then suddenly widened his eye. His grinned turned rather evil. "Hey, Shamin? Do you remember that wee little wager we had on earlier?" he asked as Shamin started to walk away.

She staggered and whirled. "You wouldn't!"

"I _won_."

"My back!"

"I _won_," he repeated, ignoring the snide little comment that wanted to be spoken, the one that said "Who _exactly_ is worse off with the wounds here?" and held out his bag.

Miriam suddenly reappeared and clutched Ash's arm painfully, ignoring his yelp. "I _know_ ya're responsible for my lil baby!"

"How—?"

She ignored him, green eyes narrowed. "Ya are givin' him a bath!"

Shamin gave a snort of laughter at Ash's expression.

"But . . . but I _won_ the bet!" he wailed as Miriam started to drag him away.

Miriam focused her evil eyes at him—Ash never realized until now how much like Pyro's they were—not understanding and frankly not caring. "Bath . . . now!"

"But I _won!_"

"No. Ya **lost**!"

Ash looked over at Pyro, who was carefully smirking and revenge of the idea of using _him_ as a rope was clearly in the fox's eyes. He collapsed heavily to the ground, passed out from wounds or exhaustion or fear or whatever, no one really knew, but most definitely _out_.

Miriam put her hands on her hips and glared down. "That _is_ not goin' to work!"

****

The stars twinkled on the bluish-black sky . . .

****

Josh Thomas sat in his chair and looked at the water, at the creatures he couldn't see . . . remembering. He shook his head.

"Mr. Ketchum, I hope you shall bow out of the dance," he sighed. "Otherwise you'll lose everything. Just like everyone else . . . even if you win . . ."

_**POKÉDEX**_

Shipozi—the Cave Light Pokémon: A small plant Pokémon, Shipozi are found in large clusters on walls of caves over the span of many years. They don't move, don't require sunlight, and they don't have any battle moves, save maybe _Blinding Light_. They live in moist, humid caves, and feed off actually minerals found in rocks over the course of a year. If they fall, detach, or are removed from the rock, they die instantly. [return]

Patellacoon—the Fuzzy-Tailed Pokémon: Made almost entirely out of bones, Patellacoon surprisingly has a very fuzzy, long, elegant striped tail. This is because, it is reasoned, the Pokémon gets cold extremely easily and relies on its tail to preserve warmth. They enjoy gathering little trinkets and causing mischief in country graveyards, knocking over tombstones. Their front paws are very nimble and sensitive, nerves actually running in the bones. [return]

Tibuma—the Collapsible Pokémon: This Pokémon as the unfortunate trait of falling apart at any given movement, bones dropping off. A lucky Tibuma is about to realize that it has lost a bone right away, but most aren't, so it isn't unusual for a Tibuma to have three legs. An especially young Tibuma is even more susceptible to this trait. They tend not to move too much around and are a dying-out breed, as they _truly_ need a Trainer's care. [return]

Osteon—the Grave-Guardian Pokémon: Another Eevee evolution, Osteon comes about when an Eevee comes in contact with a certain kind of plant. Usually fatal to other creatures, an Eevee's DNA reacts by having its bones secrete a gel that bonds the bones together and grow wider. As the outer skin dies and falls off, the bones form a protective coating around the fragile, shrunken-down internal organs. At some points, the bones are so thin that you can see the organs inside. Rarely does it have to eat, but it needs large amounts of calcium to survive. Osteon are rare because of the brittleness. One rarely lived past six months. One golden rule—if you own a Dog Pokémon, do not own an Osteon. If you own an Osteon, do not own a dog, do not live next to a dog, do not look at dog, do not be anywhere where there are dogs. Osteon do not like dogs and will not survive for long meeting dogs. It is not rare for the rare Pokémon, newly evolved, to be at their Trainer's grave. [return]


	18. Chapter 17

**Chapter Fifteen:**Starring . . . _The Pokémon_

"All right, kiddies, do we all look nice?" Miriam asked, inspecting the troupe.

"Miriam—" Ash started reproachfully, fixing his collar before Miriam would.

"I know exactly what ya are goin' to say, and it's all right! They're handin' out free food. They should know better."

"We weren't invited!"

The girls both crossed their arms and looked at him. "Point?" and "So?" were asked in union.

Ash sagged his shoulders, looking at the dance center where people were walking in. Okay, so it wasn't very likely that they were going to get noticed at the dance reception. Okay, so there was an adjoined bar next to in for the locals, and a nice beachfront, and the people probably milled between the rooms. Yet the whole point was that they weren't invited. He didn't even know the people.

"Ya look so cute when ya figure out it's helpless," Miriam cooed, messing up his hair. "'Sides, we already wasted how much dough buyin' these nice clothes. We can't afford to buy dinner."

"She's right," Shamin smiled, smoothing out her new, stylish pale-yellow pants. Her vest had a matching floral-type pattern, and Miriam had somehow hairsprayed Shamin's hair to stay up and put on touches of make-up. All in all, she didn't look half-bad, Ash admitted sheepishly.

He knew—well, he *** well suspected—the only reason Miriam wanted to go to the party was so she could buy the dress she was wearing. A sleeve-less pale-glittery light blue in color, the skirt portion was all wrinkly, while the top was smooth satin. (Okay, shoot him, he wasn't an expert on dresses and gowns.) Pyro was knocked unconscious on her shoulders, as usual, and she had all of his tails scooped up and over one arm. She truly was wearing a Ninetales shawl, a *** expensive one. Her hair was even puffier than usual, curled and something. Miriam had even dispelled her giant hoop earrings for a set of beaded ones.

It was pretty clear who would be attracting all the attention tonight.

"Pikapi?" Pikachu asked, sticking her head out angrily. She hated this. Pyro could stay out in the open and _she_ had to hide in a pack. The many-tailed ***. Oh, she was so tempted to shock him when she saw the trace of a smile on his fangs.

"It's not really fair to Pikachu. Pyro gets to stay out and she can't," Ash complained.

"They'll be so drunk they won't even notice her," Miriam smiled. "Now . . . let's party!" She paused in her stride. "And no drinkin' for ya two."

****

Ash helped himself to another plate of food, his fifth, eating a mini carrot as he did so. No one noticed that they were uninvited guests, or, if they did, they didn't care. He smiled looking around the hall. Pikachu's head was sticking out of his bag, rocking her head to the music. They had a DJ, and then karaoké, for when everyone was too dead-drunk that they wouldn't know what they were doing, as Miriam put it. Ash was only glad she wasn't up there. She said that she did have some standards. Ash bluntly reminded her that she had gone up and did Karaoke before, but Miriam brushed it off, saying that this was different. How, Ash wasn't quite sure.

"Hey, Kiddo, pass me the scoop, will you?"

A lanky blue-haired man smiled at his shoulder. "No problem."

The man scooped the potato salad generously. "Believe it or not, I hate this stuff," he chuckled. "My mom makes it the best ever."

"Not as good as my mom," Ash countered slyly. He had yet to meet the cook that could out-cook his mom.

The man paused and raised his eyebrow. "Really? Yeah right. What's your name?"

Ash momentarily debated about which name to deliver, but decided it best to play it safe. "Shan. You?"

"P.J." He rolled his eyes. "Ancient friend of the bride. We dated in High School."

"Oh," Ash said simply, looking away. Hopefully the guy wasn't going to ask how he knew the bride or groom.

"See you around, Shan."

"You too, P.J." Ash followed suit a few moments later, gathering his plate and walking over to his seat. "How you doing, Pikachu?" he whispered.

"Pi chu," she sighed, playing with her tail and looking longingly at the dance floor.

"I know. It is boring here."

She glared at him. "Pikapi, chu pika!"

"I'm not lying!" Ash defended. "The foods the only good part, and even then it's not that much." Pikachu still didn't believe him. "Hey, why don't we go outside? They've got a really nice set of climbing trees and stuff. GipSi's out there." _Probably sleeping_, Ash added. Despite his many—all right, not _so many_, because Shamin thought the whole Pokémon-going-in-a-Pokéball idea was mean and nasty and totally lazy, and they had gotten into a _huge_ fight about whether or not Ash neglected his Pokémon—attempts to place her in a Pokéball, GipSi would only reside in there for a mere second. It wasn't that she disliked being in a Pokéball, such as Pikachu, but she saw no reason as to why _she_ should go in one. The Squirrel Pokémon could keep up by the trees, easily trailing them. Once she had disappeared for a whole week, which placed the group into a nervous wreck. When she had reappeared, Pyro had nearly eaten her as punishment, for he had been on main tracking duty and had hence discovered he had more competition for Miriam's affections, as she liked "Checkers". (No one could really understand why Miriam had dubbed the nearly entirely black Pokémon that name, and she only called GipSi it once because of the questions that ensued.)

Pikachu shook her head. Ash wouldn't really understand. She wanted to have fun with people, not trees. Pikachu was very much a people-Pokémon. If she were cut off from human civilization, life would turn very miserable for her, indeed. "Chu."

"You want something to eat?"

"Pika pichu PIKA!" she screeched, and Ash almost fell out of his chair from surprise at her command.

"Okay, okay," he murmured, stepping away from his seat. If Pikachu needed some space, he'd give it to her. He knew—_well, let's be honest, Ash_, he berated himself, _I can assume_—how hard it was on her to be here and not to have some fun, to hide.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and walked onto the dance floor, almost instantly getting mauled one some of the crazier relatives. The lights spiraled around, and Ash carefully started to navigate towards Miriam, who, if it was possible, was dancing with five guys.

"Miriam, can we go now?" he whined, trying to slip through.

"So that's your name, Doll," one of the men laughed, already having a bit too much to drink.

"_No,_ Blondie. I'm havin' fun!" She twirled.

Ash frowned. Well, Pyro didn't look like he was having fun. He looked sick, in fact. Maybe it was the heat, or the smoking, or the twirling, or the loud music, but the fox did not look like his usual _cheerful_ self. "Come on, Miriam!"

Miriam gripped his hands and spun him in a circle. "Lighten up, Pokka Master!"

"MIRIAM!"

"Now ya be a good boy and take Pyro and go dance with Shamin or someone!"

"Bu—!" The fox was already shoved into his hands and he was pushed away.

Pyro lifted his head sickly. "Nine . ." he moaned, dropping it down heavily. It was a good thing he hadn't eaten anything. Make the lights stop, Mommy . . .

"I bet you want to go too," Ash muttered, walking back over to Pikachu to deposit the fox. The mouse looked positively delighted that the fox was sick.

"Chu pikach!

Pyro merely groaned and curled into a tight circled around the bag. Woe to the idiot who thought to steal this Ninetales shawl.

"Don't pick on him too much, Pikachu," Ash smiled. Pikachu grinned evilly.

"Pi? Pikachu pi ka?"

Pyro raised his head momentarily. "Ta," he spat. She laughed. Yeah, she would. Pikachu patted his head, shaking her head.

"I think I'll get some air, too." Ash smiled at the duo, then slowly made his way past the dancers and diners to the outside. He leaned against the railing. There was a group of people playing volleyball. Shamin was one of them. He sighed and leaned his head against his hand, watching as she attempted to spike the ball. The ball was mis-aimed and landed in the net though, but the green-haired girl looked pleased in any case. She laughed with the others on her team and moved over to her new position still in the front row as their server made way to score some serious points.

Ash couldn't help but notice that there were a lot of guys on her team. It was just a fact, a very obvious one, but one that he really didn't care for, should he admit it. Not that he would. Especially to her. After Ossature, he had gotten a little protective of her, so much so that Shamin had literally punched him and claimed she _could_ take care of herself, and that the punch was to prove the point. And so Ash backed off, a little dejected for a reason that he didn't quite care to admit aloud. And then, almost as much as he had been protective of her, he did the one-eighty and started to ignore her, avoiding her a bit, but watching out at a discreet distance. Ash couldn't help but feel like a Pokémon watcher (or perhaps the toddler in the china shop): able to look but never touch. Not that he wanted to touch.

***, there were a lot of guys on her team. Weren't V-ball teams only supposed to have _six_ players?

"Nice view, huh?"

"Hmm?" Ash asked, turning his head as a girl about his age leaned on the railing next to him. Her rather light lavender hair was tied in a loose high ponytail, and her puffy bangs looped over her hazel eyes. She was wearing typical flare blue jeans and a tangtop with a Jigglypuff set on it. It really didn't surprise Ash, for Jigglypuff were cute, even if they weren't well liked. "Yeah, I guess."

She smiled. "Wanna dance?"

He blinked. "What?"

The girl laughed. "There's a coalition of bimbos over in the corner trying to dare each other to come and ask you to dance, and I figured I'd better save you from them." She raised an eyebrow as she smiled.

Ash turned and looked over in the corner. True to her word, there was a group of girls giggling. A few waved and he turned and held his head. "Oh, God . . ."

"Scary, isn't it?" the girl sympathized. "So, you wanna dance?"

"I can't dance," Ash hissed. "I don't want to dance."

"Anybody can dance."

"Fine, then I can't dance _good_. I look like a lame Psyduck. I don't even wanna be here!" he moaned.

The girl pursed her lips together. "Psyduck aren't as bad as everyone thinks."

"Not all of them," Ash admitted. "But I knew one—" He stopped suddenly. "Never mind."

"You knew one what?" the girl asked, interested.

Ash looked at her in shock. She actually wanted to hear about Pokémon? "He couldn't even swim."

She laughed. "You're kidding me! A Psyduck that can't swim? Marzena would go nuts. Her Psyduck can do a triple axis on pure water."

"You know someone who owns a Pokémon?"

"A lot of people own Pokémon, despite all the regulations and paperwork and red tape. My brother said I might get one for my next birthday."

"Really? What about the doctoring? Isn't it expensive?"

"We don't get Pokémon that can be doctored without killing them, well, legally." She grinned evilly. Then she tilted her head. "You're not grossed out by this?"

"No! I love Pokémon!" Ash chuckled quietly.

"Well, there's a first," she laughed. "We'll have to swamp stories. Now, do you wanna dance with me, or do you want to go against them?"

Ash turned and leaned against the rail. "I don't even know your name."

"And I don't know yours, so is there a problem?"

He shook his head slowly, then paused. "I still can't dance."

She took his hand. "Come on. I'll teach you."

****

The sun was kissing the lake when Shamin jogged into the hall. "Hey, Miriam," she laughed, surprising the older woman.

"Eww, ya're all sweaty! Did ya win?"

"Miriam it was a friendly game. We didn't win. We kicked ***!"

They high-fived. "Good job."

Shamin grinned. "Where's Shan?"

"Wasn't he with ya?" Miriam asked absently, waving at the someone as he walked by.

"No."

"Well, he's around, don't ya worry."

"I'm not worried. I'm going to go get something to eat, right?"

Shamin walked away, her head tilted in confusion. Now where the heck did he go? She quickly spotted and joined Pikachu and Pyro, and she was surprised that he wasn't by them. "Hey, Pikachu, do you know where Shan is?"

Pikachu tilted her ears. "Pi. Pikapi chu pikach." She pointed towards the back.

"Thanks." She pushed herself off the chair and went towards the door. He was probably sulking. Well, she was going to drag him out for a dance. Carefully Shamin pushed the door open, coming to see an empty area of lawn and beachside. So this was what was on the other side of the trees and fence. Yet her traveling companion was nowhere in sight. Even still, she stepped outside, letting the door swing shut, and started to walk down the walkway. A laugh started to drift into her ears.

"You're kidding me, right?"

"I kid you not." That voice was familiar. She walked faster until she ran up to a silt fence. And there, on the other side, was Shan and another girl lounging on the beach, shoes and socks off.

"So you're telling me you have actually _seen_ a Ho-oh? And an Articuno, and an Moltres, and a Zapdos!"

"And Lugia," he added smugly. "I rode on him."

"You lie so bad!"

He laughed, jumping up and spreading his arms. "God, he flew so fast!"

"There ain't no way in 'H' you were ever on Lugia! It's impossible!"

"And I was once carried by a Aerodactyl."

"Lay off it."

"Hey, I was on the news with Lugia, and had my picture taken with that Aerodactyl. So there's _proof_!"

"_You_ were the kid in that incident on those three islands! No way!"

He nodded.

Shamin blinked. He never told her about his past dealings with Pokémon, if only because she wouldn't listen. This riding on a Lugia sounded pretty cool and important for him. She slumped down and took out her Pokédex. Miriam, annoyed with the voice, had ordered Ash to fix it. "Tell me about those Pokémon, please." The lights blinked.

"Lugia—the Diving Pokémon: a powerful psychic type, Lugia lies at the bottom of the ocean. Seen once in recent times, Lugia gives off an enchanting call."

She blinked at the next picture of the blue bird. "Aricuno—the Freezing Pokémon: this legendary Pokémon of ice, once believed to be myth, appears upon snowy mountains to doomed travelers. The very air around it is as cold as ice, so riders freeze and are cut on its sharp feathers. This Pokémon is to be advanced upon with extreme caution.

"Zapdos—the Electric Pokémon: another legendary Pokémon, Zapdos must also be approached with extreme caution. Created of electricity, it flies above storms and delivers fierce thunderbolts to unfortunate targets. It is not suggested to be ridden." The bird, to Shamin, looked scary.

"Moltres—the Flame Pokémon: the last of the acclaimed legendary trio of flying Pokémon of the Orange Islands. Made of flames, the wings of this bird create spectacular displays of flames. It is the flame of the Moltres that lights the Indigo League flame every year. The flames, although hot, are, like other Fire Pokémon, not dangerous to Trainers it deems worthy." There was a brief skim of the flame being lit.

"Aerodactyl—the Fossil Pokémon: the once extinct Pokémon, Aerodactyl has been brought back into existence by the science of DNA. As ever dangerous as in its true era, Aerodactyl attacks its victim by going for the throat with its jaws." Shamin literally shuddered, seeing one of the created Aerodactyls attack a helpless Pokémon.

"Ho-oh—the Rainbow Pokémon: people state that this Pokémon is responsible for the rainbows of the skies and bring hope to those who see it." It was very pretty. Shamin wished she could have seen it.

She looked back over the fence at the two laughing teenagers, then stood up and walked back to the hall feeling utterly alone.

****

"There ya are, Blondie!" Miriam greeted. "Who's yar friend?"

Ash grinned, looking at his companion. "Jeez, I still don't even know your name!" he laughed, pushing the girl.

"Well, I seriously doubt yours is actually 'Blondie'!" she smiled, pushing him back so much that he lost his balance.

Miriam looked at the two, her lips squinched. "Well, who are ya?"

"Shauna. And you?"

"Miriam. I suppose it's nice to meet ya," Miriam shrugged. "And Blondie, ya goin' go up and do some Karaoke?"

"Not if you threatened me with a mating Urasring. Why don't you go up?"

She stuck her tongue out, then thought about it. "Aren't Urasring very dangerous?"

"You have _no_ idea." Ash laughed at a memory. "Read the signs."

"Urasring aren't that bad. They're so small," Shauna countered.

"I think you mean Teddiursa," Ash got out after a few moments of speechlessness. "Ursaring are like eight feet tall and mean."

"Come on, Folkies!" the DJ smiled, looking at the audience of dancers. "Someone's got to come up here!"

"I will!" yelled a voice near the back.

"Ah ***!" Shauna gasped with an embarrassed smile. "That's my brother!"

Ash watched as the person disentangled himself, and saw that it was P.J. (What a world of coincidences.)

"Hmm, not bad," Miriam gauged, watching as the man went to stand.

"Oh, that's disgusting!" Miriam grinned at her. "My brother!" Shauna shuddered, like most sisters, unable to see her brother as anything but a tormenter, let alone understand how a woman could actually _want_ him.

"Hey, guys," Shamin spoke shyly, suddenly coming up. She had an ice cream cone and, the other two noted with surprise, Pikachu in a purse. "Miriam, your shawl got thrown up on," she stated in a way that said the shawl hadn't been so much thrown up on as the one throwing up. Who'd have thought Pyro would get sick of dance receptions? "I put it outside and I think it's doing better. There's a squirrel swinging on one of its tails, though."

"Ohh, that is a cute Pikachu toy!" Shauna murmured. "It's so life-like."

"It's actual Pikachu skin," Miriam grinned, pushing Ash jokingly. "One-hundred-percent real-deal. Careful, it might shock ya!"

"Knock it off, Miriam," Ash sighed, seeing Shauna's horrified expression. "It's not as bad as she makes it sound."

"No, it's worse," Miriam whispered. "That's actually an unregistered, ketchup-crazy Pikachu that could light ya up like a city if Blondie so commanded. He's a nut-job on the lose, so be careful." She winked an eye. "And he's got other even more vile little creatures than this one." She picked up Pikachu by under the belly, and Pikachu struggled to remain motionless.

_I am the Stuffed Toy . . . I am the stuffed Toy . . . Chuka, put me down! . . . I am the Stuffed Toy . . . Oi, I knew I shouldn't have had that cake . . ._

"Cute, isn't it? And dangerous!"

"Miriam!" Ash scolded, gathering Pikachu in a more comfortable hold and effectively covering her up so that it would be unnoticeable if she started breathing.

"Oooh, don't be so modest," Shamin grinned. "He's dangerous. Stupid, but _dangerous_. Now give me Pikachu back." She took Pikachu rapidly and plucked her back into her bag.

Shauna looked between the two women. "So, is this real Pikachu fur?" she asked Ash with finality.

He scowled at the two culprits, then sighed, rubbing the back of his head. "In the truest sense of the idea, yes. But it's not what you think . . ." He didn't get time or will to explain, for Shauna's glare snuffed any excuse—good or not—from his lips and P.J., after taking his sweet time to get up there, removed the microphone. He had the distinct impression that his two traveling companions had tricked him, whatever their reason.

"I see I am the bravest one out of all you chickens," P.J. chirped as the DJ, shaking his head, placed in the singer's song.

"More like idiotic," Miriam commented to Shamin and Shauna. P.J. overheard and looked at her curiously. She merely smiled her self-assured smile. "Can he sing?"

"Oh, you _could_ say that," Shauna said with a dry sense of humor. Her brother smirked at her as he flipped the microphone on.

The music started up, a piano solo. "Hey, I know this song," Miriam murmured.

"It's his date-song. He plays it if he wants to ask someone to go out with him," Shauna sighed. Miriam snorted.

Instead of staying up on the stage where the words were displayed, P.J. strolled down. "M'Lady, you shall have to tell me if I can sing." Miriam crossed her arms, raising her critical eyebrow.

"Oh, she's gonna get him," Shamin muttered under her breath. "That was a *** challenge to Miriam." Ash nodded, interested to see how Miriam would handle this.

"Come out Virginia, don't let me wait.  
You Catholic girls start much too late."

Ash and Shamin both covered their mouths to keep from laughing. Miriam had yet to start anything too late.

"Ah, but sooner or later it comes down to fate  
I might as well be the one."

Miriam mouthed "no" to them.

"Well, they showed you a statue and told you to pray  
They built you a temple and locked you away  
But they never told you the price that you pay  
For things that you might have done...  
Only the good die young.  
That's what I said!  
Only the good die young, only the good die young!"

_Didn't Miriam say that once?_ Ash wondered idly, watching as Miriam tried to weave away from P.J. Oh, but she was enjoying the attention, that smile on her face said that much.

"You might have heard I run with a dangerous crowd.  
We ain't too pretty, we ain't too proud  
We might be laughing a bit too loud—"

With impeccable timing, Miriam cut him off by tapping his nose—he had entered her bubble, as she had once told Ash—"Ah, but that never hurt no one."

It took P.J. by surprise, but he recovered quickly as Miriam bowed to her claps.

"So, come on, Virginia, show me a sign  
Send up a signal I'll throw you the line." He wrapped on arm around Miriam, who coolly removed it.

"The stained-glass curtain you're hiding behind  
Never lets in the sun,  
Darling, only the good die young."

"Whoa, whoa whoa, I tell ya

Only the good die young, only the good die young."

"You got a nice white dress and a party on your confirmation."

"Did Miriam ever get confirmed?" Ash stage-whispered to Shamin.

"You got a brand new soul  
And a cross of gold."

Shamin smiled at Shauna, nudging her. "She hocked it for the cash. It clashed with her ensemble." She spoke imitating Miriam, acting like such a thing was the greatest woe of the world.

"But Virginia they didn't give you quite enough information."

"Who's the one lacking in information?" Ash asked.

"You didn't count on me  
When you were counting on your rosary, whoa whoa . . ."

"Does he really think Miriam is a golden-girl?" Shamin snickered. "Or is this just the song?"

"Both?" Shauna got out. The woman looked pretty clean-cut and well off.

"They say there's a heaven for those who will wait  
Some say it's better—"

Again Miriam cut him off. "But I say it ain't!  
I'd rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints  
The sinners are much more fun..." She wrapped her arms around Ash and Shamin, winking at both of them.  
"Ya know that only the good die young."

P.J. crossed his arms. "Whoa, baby . . .  
Ya tell me baby that only the good die young?"

She shrugged. "Only the good die young."

"You say your mother told you all that I could give you was a reputation."

That was too much for the three of them. Even Pikachu started snickering.

"She never cared for me  
But did she ever say a prayer for me?  
Whoa, whoa whoa . . .

"Come out, come out, come out, Virginia  
Don't let me wait!  
You Catholic girls start much too late  
But sooner or later it comes down to fate!"

Miriam shrugged, wrapping her arm around him. "I might as well will be the one." Then, like she had done so many times to Ash, she shoved him away.

"Tell ya, baby, only the good die young!  
Only the good die young!"

P.J. didn't bother continuing the ending portion, walking up to Miriam to shake the microphone under her nose. "Nice," he started. "Wanna go out?"

She smoothed out her dress innocently. "No."

"Really? That usually works," P.J. stated. "Why don't you go up?"

"I don't want to out-do ya," she said modesty, batting her lashes coyly.

"Madam, you have a long way before you do that."

"You don't want to get her started," Shamin interrupted.

P.J. looked at her, then Ash. "Hey, it's Potato-Salad boy!"

"Thanks," Ash said dryly, ignoring the girls' humorous looks.

"'Potato-Salad Boy'?" Shamin repeated. "Did you spill—OW! Pikachu! Oops . . ." She looked up from holding her hand, which Pikachu had bitten.

"Pikapi!" Pikachu squeaked.

"It's alive!" Shauna gasped.

"Shut up!" Miriam hissed, already ushering her trio outside.

"You didn't tell me it was alive!" Shauna got out, following them. P.J., less than suspiciously, followed as well.

"Stupid Rodent! What's yar problem!" Miriam demanded, once they were, more or less, out of sight. "Ya wanna get us thrown out?"

"Pikapi! Chu pikachu pika!" she rushed, almost hanging from her perch in the purse.

"Nine nitales!" Pyro growled, suddenly appearing above them, still green but peeved. GipSi was wrapped in one of his tails and struggling to escape.

"Jeez, Louise," P.J. muttered, looking at the sleek fox. Pyro glared at him before continuing.

"Tales ninenine ales, nine," he snapped, throwing his head in a general direction.

"Chu," Pikachu nodded.

"What is it, Blondie?" Miriam demanded, watching as Ash dug in his pocket for his Pokédex.

"Murkrow flock, probably coming to dine on the outside buffet," Ash said offhandedly, scrolling through the index.

"What's that?" Shauna asked.

"A Poképedia," Miriam said bored.

"Pokédex, Miriam!"

"Does it really matter? Whatcha lookin' up?" Miriam asked idly as Pyro leaped down and growled at P.J.

"I want to know what a Murkrow is, all right, Miriam? Pyro, don't you dare eat her." Pyro slowly lowered GipSi down to Shamin's hands, for he had been teasing her by snapping his jaws under her. "Here it is."

"Murkrow—the Darkness Pokémon."

Shamin shuddered. "I don't like this already."

"A Dark Pokémon of the flying sort, Murkrow is seen as a bad omen and is feared and hated by many people. They enjoy causing torment and leading many travelers to deadly ends. Appearing commonly after dark, they have attacks such as Night Shade, Pur—"

Miriam snapped the lid shut, catching one of Ash's fingers. "A Dark Pokémon? Like _Evil_?"

"That's a stupid myth!" Ash snapped, sucking on his finger. He didn't believe the theory proposed by many that a Dark Pokémon was necessarily Evil as well. "A Dark Pokémon is no more evil than any other. Dark Pokémon j—"

"Spare me the ideals," Miriam snipped. "We're out of here."

"We can't let the party get ruined!" Ash countered, hands on his hips.

"Ya didn't even wanna go."

"How do you even plan to save the place?" P.J. asked curiously, eyeing the still growling fox apprehensively.

"Take down the leader. The rest of the flock'll fold."

"Pikapi," Pikachu warned.

Ash rolled his eyes. "It should, then, all right?"

"How?" P.J. repeated.

"Flying are naturally weak against Electric and Rock. Well, we have an Electric-type."

"Pi!"

"Ales," Pyro pointed out darkly. "Tales tale ni nitale."

"One against thirty is not a fair fight," Miriam translated.

"Hey, Pikachu once took out a whole Spearow flock! And what's he know about fair, anyway?" Ash shook his head. "Look, I don't care what you say, Miriam, I'm gonna stop those birds." He held up a trio of Pokéballs between his fingers. "The food may have been bad, but I have to pay for it somehow. Right, Pikachu?"

"Pika!" she agreed, jumping to his shoulder.

Shauna's jaw had dropped. "How many Pokémon do you have?"

"A whole frinkin' stampede," Miriam sighed, turning her head to Pyro. "So what do ya plan to do?"

"Pikachu pika?" Pikachu interrupted, turning towards Pyro.

Pyro snapped his head at her. "Ales," he sneered, licking his fangs. He narrowed his eyes at GipSi, perched on Shamin's shoulder. "Nin?"

She flicked her tail importantly, raising her nose. "Si."

"I'm in, too," Shamin said, holding up her Pokéballs.

"Well, there's a short battle," Miriam sighed.

"No Trigger," Ash ordered.

Shamin pouted. "Why not? He's just as good."

"Because, I'm sorry to say, he's a handicap. It's not that he's not good, but he'd be begging off people more than helping. And we can't afford to watch only him. When you have more than one Pokémon out, they all need equal attention. So, no Trigger."

"He's right," Miriam agreed. Trigger would be the one to grab the tablecloth and take off running.

"Fine," Shamin snapped, slipping the Pokéball away.

"What are you three going to do, exactly?" P.J. asked.

"Ah, three?" Miriam questioned.

He shrugged. "Whatever."

"Intercept," Ash stated. "They're coming from the west bank, from the forest and meadow. We'll surprise then, then take them down, so keep your Pokéballs ready if you want one."

"What can we do?" Shauna asked excitably.

"Staying out of the way would be good," Shamin muttered under her breath.

"Just be ready," Ash grinned, whipping back his arm. "Go, Noctowl!"

The strangely colored bird flapped its wings and cooed as it fluttered above, looking at the group with its intelligent eyes.

"Noctowl, there's a flock of Murkrow coming up. Could you—" someone screaming interrupted him.

"Ya put too much time into this plannin'," Miriam drawled, watching as Pyro leaped up and into some trees. Already dark shadows could be seen over the trees. "They've come to us."

"Well, let's not kid around, then," Shamin grinned, throwing off her Pokéballs. When they recoiled up after the Pokémon's released, one managed to hit P.J., Miriam, and herself respectively, and the last rolled under a bush. "Oh, god. That's harder than it looks."

Hula, the Bellsprout; Angel, the Pidgey; Olly, the Oddish; and Chips, the Cubone; sat ready for whatever command they were supposed to receive. All were expertly cared for, and, if someone where to guess, they looked like they could hold their own in a battle, as if they had won several. Ash knew better. Shamin maybe be able to care for Pokémon, allowing them to have such a façade, (itself a rare feat,) but—if his Pokémon were considered graduated and making multi-millions of dollars—these guys were just preschoolers.

"Heracross, Chitorika, Bulbasaur, Cyndaquil, Totodile!" The Pokémon stood ready.

"You ever hear of over-kill?" P.J. asked.

"There's thirty of them," Miriam reminded as Ash organized the troops.

"Angel, you go with Noctowl. Ahh, yeah, you can come with me, Chitorika," Ash sighed. "You too, Olly. Heracross, leave Bulbasaur alone! Cyndaquil, go with him. Totodile, you go to by the waterfront and do your stuff. Hula, stick with Bulbasaur. Bulbasaur and Pikachu, just do what you got to do."

"Gippy?!"

"You too," Ash smiled. "We'll get their attention. Get going!"

Chips sniffed, collapsing to the ground in the ignorance. "Bone . . ." he wailed as the others took off.

"Shan!" Shamin scolded.

"What's wrong, Kiddo? We need you to get their attention!" Ash laughed, scooping the crying Pokémon up. "You think you can do it?"

He blinked his wide eyes, nodding.

"And ya know, he's terrible with kids," Miriam sighed. "Better get savin' them." She waved her arms in the general direction of the screams. "I still haven't had any—WHOA CRAP!" she yelled as Pyro leaped down on the back of a Murkrow that had been diving down upon them. The hold on its neck safely assured them that the bird wouldn't be flying again. "Give us a little warnin' next time!"

Pyro narrowed his eyes, whipping the feathers from his face and retreating back into the trees. Murkrow tasted disgusting!

"Dangerous little guy," P.J. muttered, touching the dead bird with his foot.

Ash gave him a look. "You have _no_ idea." Then, still holding Chips, he ran off towards the Pokémon problem.

****

Guests at the party weren't quite sure what happened. One minute they had been eating cake, dancing around the fire, dancing in general, chatting, or doing whatever it is that they were doing. The bride and groom had been next to the cake, a towering thing, handing out more pieces to the guests when it suddenly exploded as figures of darkness flew through it, cake suddenly flying from the force of their wings.

Hair, noses of long length, coattails, long skirts, and hats were suddenly being pecked and pulled mercilessly at. A dozen birds resided on the tables, chowing down, while countless others chased the guests with a vengeance. A few braver (or idiotic) guests started to throw things at the Murkrow, thus angering the birds into new areas of rage.

"CUBONE!" came a sudden cry, and guests that could see say they saw a small creature throw a _bone_ at the flock of birds. The bone curved into the sky in a wide arch, knocking several of the birds from their aerial perches. The bone returned to the paw, and the creature, after doing a taunting sort of jig, dashed off with the majority of the flock after it.

A yellow mouse suddenly dashed out from under one of the tables, and while the guests scrambled away from it, it released a large thunderbolt at five of the birds. As they fell, a set of vines suddenly caught them and the source, a moving stick and a lug of green, tossed them over the trees.

Over by the lake, after several of the birds pushed the guests into the water, great geysers of water suddenly appeared and blew the birds away with such force that they were sent spinning.

Over the trees great mills of wind knocked the chasing fowl wildly into spinning circles. A flying mass of darkness, syrup dripping off its mouth, allowed a moving flame-thrower upon its head, roasting the chickens. On the ground in the trees, a similar thing was happening, only these birds wouldn't be getting up again.

Through the trees, vines lifted the same little creature that first angered the birds, allowing it to throw its bone.

All in all, it was a wild party.

****

A man was hiding under the table, cowering a fear. He watched as the creatures started to deal with the birds, whatever they were. People were still screaming, and others were cowering like him.

Suddenly a creature of all black appeared in front of his face.

"AHHH!" he screamed, leaping up to bang his head, causing all of the entrees in the table to fly off. "Stay away!"

The creature looked at him, tilting its head and blinking its enormous eyes at him. It chitted at him, coming closer.

"Stay away, you monster!"

Surprisingly, it did stop. With a twitch of its tail, it sent a nut in front of itself, which promptly went into its mouth. And another, and another, and another. The man blinked his own surprise that so many of the large nuts could fit in its mouth. Its cheeks were brimmed out to absurd proportions.

"Gwup?" it squeaked, blinking its enormous eyes again, then proceeding to pile up even more nuts and try to shove them in its mouth, even through there was no possible way in Hell they could get in there.

"Pretty stupid little thing, aren't you?" the man chuckled. The creature also giggled, and then did the impossible, shoving another nut in its mouth. The man sat and watched. The creature didn't appear to notice the other yellow mouse and vine-whippers behind it, totally enthralled with its nut building.

The man whimpered suddenly when one of the birds suddenly appeared. The black bird slowly advanced, lifting the cloth with its head to look into the little table-cave. The squirrel didn't notice, and slowly the bird started to walk forward. Its beak was spread, ready to clamp down on the tail—

What followed so fast the man was shocked. The tiny rodent whirled around and spit every nut out of its mouth straight at the bird's face. Then it circled the giant bird with shocking speed, banging the fowl with its tail. Its tiny claw—purposely or not—ripped feathers from the body, and the bird ran from under the table.

"Gippy ip si," the creature sighed, putting another nut in its mouth.

"Whoa . . ." the man muttered.

Suddenly the yellow mouse stuck its head in. "Pikachu!" it scolded the tiny black squirrel. It pointed outside. "Chu pika pikachu!" Then it waved at the man, and ran out. The squirrel, shoving another nut in its mouth, started to follow. Then it looked back at the man.

"Si gip," it smiled, waving good-bye and sending a nut over.

"I need a drink," the man muttered, picking up the nut to examine it.

****

The sprout of water blew the last of the Murkrow away, and the guests slowly started to emerge. The bride's ten-thousand-dollar dress was ruined, now only suitable for dish rages, and her hair was a mess. The groom was no better, and the DJ's music was totally destroyed. The food . . . well, no one was going to eat that.

The creatures that had appeared were nowhere in sight.

"Daddy, are you all right?" asked a tiny girl as her father emerged, a nut grasped in his hand.

"I'm fine, Honey. Fine." He tucked the nut in his pocket.

"Look at this place," wailed the mother of the bride, and the footer of the bill. "Blasted Pokémon!"

"Actually, some of them were kind of nice," someone got out, and a few agreed.

Everyone looked at the mess.

"Could I have another drink?" someone sighed, and a few people chuckled.

"I think I've been robbed."

The man sighed, surveying the guests and the hall. Well, it would be memorable, ha he ha. Oi, vey. He chuckled weakly. At least no one was a reporter.

"Mr. Mayor? Can I ask you a question?"

He spoke too soon.

****

Ash rolled over, hugging Pikachu and the blanket.

"Wake up, Sleepyhead!" laughed a voice in his ear.

He peeled apart his eye and allowed Pikachu to get lose. "Huh? What time is it?"

"6:30 in the AM," P.J. smiled, and Ash groaned.

"I just fell asleep three hours ago!"

"Five hours," the man corrected. "Get up."

Ash groaned, covering his head. "Pika," Pikachu agreed, nuzzling back up to him, and they recovered themselves. Somewhere down the hall someone knocked on a door, called for the dominators to wake up, then suddenly screamed in pain when a whoosh of fire appeared when the door opened.

"And don't come back!"

"What a stupid idiot," Ash muttered.

"Pi . . . ka," Pikachu yawned, her eyes fluttering.

They had lodged with P.J. and Shauna in their home. There were two extra rooms of choice, and Ash wouldn't be parting his any time soon.

They dozed off for some time, Ash was unsure for how long, but he was shaken. "Time to get up!" a chipper voice sounded. "Or else."

"Go . . . away," Ash ordered, yawning as he did so.

"Can't say I didn't warn you!"

Ash sat up with a start when the ice water hit him and Pikachu. "AHH!"

"PIKA!" He barely had time to roll off the bed before Pikachu could release the shock.

"Would ya shut up in there!"

"Are you trying to get me killed!" Ash demanded, sitting soaking wet as Shauna stood above him, toying with the pitcher and eyeing the smoking bed a little fearfully.

"I didn't think that was going to happen," she admitted sheepishly, shielding herself as Pikachu shook herself off, who growling and swearing bitterly in Pikachu-nese.

Ash ringed his bangs. "Do that to Miriam and Shamin. Go on, I dare you!"

"Pika!"

"Yeah, and get Pyro wet. I'll attend your funeral, I really will!" Ash added, standing up.

"Are you hungry?" Shauna asked, desperate to change the subject.

As if on cue, their stomachs sounded.

"Would you believe me if I said no?" Ash asked sheepishly.

"No. Get a shirt on and get downstairs. I'd say before your food gets cold, but its already cold."

Ash grabbed his shirt and put it on, then clipped his Pokébelt on. "Whatever. Come on, Pikachu."

They headed down the stairs. Trigger was already up and dining, and he leaped on Ash. "Down, buddy," Ash signed. "Good boy."

"He's hard to work with. He doesn't listen to us," Shauna complained.

"Well, he is deaf," Ash said gently, sitting down and petting the puppy's head. The girl's head snapped up, surprised. "He's perfectly workable. He just needs attention, and lots of it. There's a good boy."

"How many Pokémon do you have?" Shauna asked, slipping him a bowl of ice cold oatmeal. Ash made no complaint, starting to eat.

"Well, a couple dozen Tauros, but most of those are . . . at home," he said evasively. "Right now I have a Heracross, Noctowl, GipSi, Bulbasaur, Cyndaquil, Chitorika, Totodile, Muk, Kingler, Snorlax, and of course Pikachu. I've also had a Pidgeot, Charizard, Laparas, Butterfree, Haunter, Primeape, a Raticate briefly, and Squirtle. And I almost had a Togepi, but it had other ideas, right Pikachu?"

"Pi."

"You've had all those Pokémon?" Awe was in her voice.

"My mom's got a Mr. Mime, too. He was supposed to be mine, but he liked my mom better." Ash shook his head, trying to remove the memory of home. "And if you want to count Pokémon that followed me around, well, then there's a Jigglypuff. I never caught it though."

"A Jigglypuff?" Shauna's eyes were wide. "How cool."

Ash smiled at her, allowing Pikachu to lick some porridge. "If you say so."

"Jigglypuff are so cool, though!"

"Not nearly as cool as Geo-_Dude_," P.J. smiled. "Good morning. I see at least one of you is up. Oh, ahh-chie!" He gripped his knee in pain, and Ash could see the bandage.

Pikachu laughed. "Pikachu pi pika kachu ales, ka, Pikapi?"

Ash snorted. "Right."

"Very mean to speak when no one knows what you are saying," P.J. smiled, rubbing his arm. It must also be sore.

"At least he didn't bite you," he smirked.

"He wouldn't bite," Shauna laughed, pushing P.J., who laughed as well.

Both Ash and Pikachu froze. "_Pi_?

"What? Pyro, not bite? You're kidding!"

"Miriam wouldn't let him."

"Chuka pikachu ales!" Pikachu laughed.

Ash bared his arms. "Well, then, Pyro did not cause this, then. Just a Ninetales that looks remarkably like him. And his didn't cause this either," he added, baring his ankle. "Get a life, please. Pyro'd bite you as so as look at you. As Pikachu said, Miriam practically encourages him."

"She shouldn't do that," P.J. said lowly.

"You tell her that," Ash smiled, waving his spoon at him. Then he looked at the two. "Oh, he only bites people that deserve it. And me, but I guess I don't count. He prefers to torch others, lightly. Pyro's not all bad," Ash finished lamely. "He's just very territorial."

"_Chu_," Pikachu added solemnly.

"Well, what about Shamin's Pokémon?" P.J. asked, interested.

"What about them? Hula's the Bellsprout, Trigger's the pup, Angel's the bird, Olly's the walking perfume factory, and Chips' the Cubone."

"They look pretty good."

"They are pretty good," Ash said sharply. "Why do you want to know?"

P.J. blushed. "Well . . . we kinda have this idea."

"We?" Shauna repeated, confused.

"Not we _we_, but we as in the group we." P.J. folded his hands and looked squarely at Ash. "Kid—I can't even remember your name."

"There's a good start," Shauna smiled.

"Shan. What?"

"Look, I'd like to ask you a favor. And you owe us for the rooms, so bare that in mind, please," P.J. smiled.

Ash raised an eyebrow. "All right?"

"Me and Shauna are in this little group. Nothing much, but it pays the bills. We sing and dance and whatever. Okay?" Ash nodded. "The thing is, there's this big _big_ audition thing coming up. I don't know all the details, I'm not Darryl, but it could put us up and over the top. The thing is, we got to be different. And tell me, what's the best way to be different?"

"To not be the same?" Ash tried.

"Yeah, sure. Close enough, Shan. Now what could be more different than using Pokémon? Huh?" P.J. grinned at the boy's blank look.

Slowly a picture was forming in Ash's mind. "Whoa no, no no no! I am not putting my Pokémon in danger of being confiscated by your pea-brained officials. None of mine are registered or 'treated', and they *** as Hell aren't going to be!" he yelled, standing up and leaning on the table.

"They won't get confiscated," Shauna laughed. Ash glared at her.

"Don't give me that."

P.J. held up his hands. "Easy, easy, Shan. Sit down, right. The whole thing is, that's the point. Yours are wild and exciting. And we have some Pokémon. Got a Ponyta in a stable. Thing won't let me touch it, so we have a problem there, but we have Pokémon. Little ones, but Pokémon."

"Right?"

"All you'd have to do is let your Pokémon be part of the show, maybe do a number yourself."

"Ha ha," Ash said weakly. "Look, guys, I'd love—well, wrong word, but I would like to help you, but, believe it or not, I have absolutely no say in it. Talk to Miriam or Shamin, not me. I'd like nothing more then head out to the next League."

They looked at him blankly, until Shauna blinked understanding. "Oohhh, one of those training thingies, right?"

"Ah, right." _Miriam won't stick around. She knows very well I want to—oh ***, we're staying. *** it, we're staying. I know it._

****

"All right, everybody out!" P.J smiled, unloading everyone from his truck. The trio leaped from the trunk while the siblings escaped the cab.

"Oh, nature," Miriam said, making a face. She was just getting used to the idea of sleeping in a bed, and she ***-Hell going to cling to that notion for a little while longer.

They were far in the country, a farmhouse over in one end and the stables in the other. The road was dirt, and trees were everywhere.

"It's about time you showed up!" scolded a voice, and a long blue-haired girl came riding up on a bike. "We've been waiting over an hour!"

"Sorry, Marzena," Shauna sighed. "We had to wait for the Sleepyheads."

"One of which is still sleeping," Shamin giggled, poking Pyro. He shook his head, creaking his eye open, then yawned, leaping down from Miriam's shoulder.

"Aww, he's so cute!" Marzena squealed, watching the fox stretch his many muscles and tails.

"Pika!" Pikachu complained, sticking her head out from Ash's pack. "Pikachu pika?" Marzena's eyes were as wide as saucers at her appearance.

"Ales, nine tales tale," Pyro grinned.

"Pika!" Pikachu yelled , jumping out to attack the fox. Both suddenly took off, Pikachu yelling the equivalent of "Take that back!" and Pyro's "Never!"

"Play nice!" Miriam laughed. "Rodent still can't take it," she smiled, nudging Ash.

"You were so right! They're perfect!" Marzena yelped.

"It gets even better, but let's get everyone together," P.J. smiled.

"Right!" Marzena took off on her bike.

"And we have to walk?" Miriam whined.

"I could carry you," P.J. grinned.

"I'll walk."

****

"This is Ginger, Darryl, Jeromy, John, Daisy, Kessie, Avi, Dave, Sammy, Harris, Carmen, Jules, and Bobby," P.J. introduced speedily.

"And this is Miriam, Shan, and Shamin," Shauna finished.

The trio looked at the crowd. "Hi," Ash said.

"Hello," Shamin squeaked.

"Hey," Miriam smiled.

The group nodded towards them, making their own words of greeting, and Ash started to survey the group.

Sitting from the rafters was Ginger and Kessie. They reminded Ash of Miriam, who figured that if you beautiful—of course, Miriam used this relatively, for she wasn't beauty's beauty, but beauty by attitude—you should flaunt it. Both were wearing dress of a more-or-less decent length, Ginger a deep red and Violet an indigo. In both cases, though, one color would suffice to describe their ensemble: Ginger was red, and Kessie was violet. Both of their wild hair—Ginger's seemed to be floating up—matched the color of choice. The only thing that didn't match were there eyes, both a cool blue. Ash had the feeling these were party-hardy kind of girls.

Under them lounging in the hay was Harris, blond and fit, but sort of detached from the group, and sitting next to him was John. Grey-haired by birth and just as fit, he observed the trio quietly.

Sitting on a bale of hay right in front of them was Darryl and Carmen. Darryl was most likely the oldest here, and the one in charge. Wild emerald hair and dressed in almost suit-attire, he looked serious, too serious to be with most of this group, yet he had one of those crooked smiles and eyes—the color no one can quite agree on—that set you at ease. Carmen, on the other hand, was direct opposite in most counts. Just as old, she was dressed as a punk. Her head was shaved except for a thick, wavy line of red/blue hair in the center, currently unspiked. With the same standards of earrings as Miriam, the jeans and shirts held strategically placed holes, and a chain worked as a belt around her waist.

Jules was sitting next to Marzena. White hair and a pale complexion, her narrow eyes surveyed them like the others. She was thin, and, compared to the others, her wardrobe was very sophisticated, wearing a long dress of probably silk or similar. Her hair was cut pageboy style, and she didn't seem to quite care that Ash was studying her, for she was doing the same to him.

Sammy was the boy with his hat on backwards, the baggy pants, and long shirt leaning against a pillar, conversing with Jeromy. Also one with white hair and a pale complexion, Ash guessed that he was Jules' younger brother. Jeromy hid his eyes behind tiny oval glasses and was dressed similarly to his friend, red hair a mess of static and low over his eyes.

Daisy—just imagine a country girl. Overalls and the stray hat over the strawberry blond hair. That was her. Daisy stood watching Avi and Dave. Dave was leaning back on a rafter, only saving himself from falling by gripping a rope. Avi, well, she was swinging on a rope over their heads, grinning all the while. She was the youngest, most assuredly.

The last was Bobby. If Harris and John were detached from the group, Bobby wasn't even part of it. Wearing a dark cloak with the hood drawn, Ash couldn't even tell his this person was guy or gal. The heavy boots and baggy dark clothes hid all traits of the person, and whomever Bobby was, the person must have been sweaty in the unusually warm May weather. Bobby wasn't even looking at them, resting on a few hale bales.

Darryl smiled at them. "So you guys are the ones P.J. was so excited about."

"We're here," Miriam responded lightly. "He's probably the one you want though. Eh, Blondie?"

Ash would have preferred it if Miriam hadn't directed the attention towards him. Suddenly all of the eyes, even Bobby's, were focused on him. "Thanks, Miriam."

"So whatcha got?" Ginger asked.

"Huh?"

"For Pokémon," Kessie laughed, swinging her legs. "Why else would you be here?"

"Well, there's lots of reasons . . .," Ash started.

Daisy stopped watching Avi and Dave. "What kind of Pokémon do you have that we could use for our act?" she said in a soft, patient voice.

"Oh, well, for attention, I got just the one," he smiled, reaching behind his back and withdrawing a Pokéball. The group was silent, watching him. "Totodile, I choose you!"

"No, duh!" Shamin said, rolling her eyes as the crocodile was released. Instantly, the Water Pokémon started his trademark jig.

"To ta!" he smiled.

"What can it do?" Marzena asked, interested.

"He," Ash corrected. "Totodile, give them some of your moves."

The toothy grin widened. "Dile!" Then, doing his starting jig, he released his water gun, making designs that had taken him ages to get just right. He continued to dance around until he was next to Jeromy and Sammy. Both slightly backed away, Ash didn't fail to notice with a frown, as if they were afraid of the Pokémon. When Totodile suddenly released a mild water-gun at Sammy, the boy screamed in surprise. The aim was true, and all Totodile did was remove the hat. He set in whirling above their heads for a few moments until, satisfied, he let it drop onto his head. It landed crookedly, but Totodile didn't care.

"TOTO-Dile!" he said, closing his eyes.

Applause did not instantly appear from the watchers, although Ash, Shamin, and Miriam (lightly) did clap.

"Good job!" Ash congratulated, kneeling next to the Totodile.

Totodile, on the other hand, looked confused as he moved the hat back so that he could see. That was some of his best stuff, and they weren't even amazed! "Di?"

The audience watched, still silent, for several moments. It was Bobby who broke the silence. "Not bad." The voice was soft. Then he (or she) clapped lightly, hands also gloved. Bobby was only one who made such a movement.

"Interesting," Carmen agreed.

Totodile took off the hat. They didn't like it. Carefully, he went over and returned it to Sammy. "Dile?"

Jeromy nudged the hat-less boy, who took it carefully. "T-thanks," he got out, setting the cap on. "You . . . you did good." He smiled crookedly at the crocodile.

"What else ya got?" Avi asked, swinging above, watching as Ash recalled Totodile. Her shoes were damp.

Ash felt hesitant to continue the show. He knew Totodile's feeling had been hurt by the cold treatment, and he really didn't want to allow his Pokémon to be used as props, as it seemed now that that's how they were going to be used. "You know," he started, placing the Pokéball back. "If you're going to use Pokémon in your act, there are few things that definitely need to change. At least if you're going to use my Pokémon."

"Excuse me?" John asked, throwing back his head.

"What's wrong?" Shauna asked softly.

"Isn't it obvious?" Shamin sighed. "I know jack-diddly about Pokémon, but I know for a fact that that was *** good show for Totodile. And you didn't even care! You hurt his feelings."

"It's a Pokémon. They don't have feelings," Dave countered.

"Oh, Pyro, Pyro, where for out thou, Pyro?" Miriam grinned at the two.

"Whoa, keep that devil back!" P.J. ordered.

Ash shook his head. "I really don't care—okay, I do," he corrected when the girls looked at him. "It's none of my business how you use your Pokémon. Each Trainer to their own. But I will not let my Pokémon be treated this way, as props for a little show. It's demeaning and totally cruel, and they won't like it one bit."

"Why you pompous little brat," Ginger snapped. "You have no right—"

"I have all the right!" Ash yelled back at her. "My Pokémon, my responsibility. And I have better things to do than put my Pokémon through this kind of treatment."

"They're just stupid Pokémon," Jules snipped, fixing her dress.

Ash tightened his lips. "Maybe, then, but they're my stupid Pokémon. I'm sorry, but I can't help you."

"Well, then," Darryl said coldly, standing up. "Okay. It was nice meeting you."

"Wish I could say the same." Ash turned.

"Hey, Kid," interrupted a voice. Bobby leaped down from the bales.

"Yeah?" Ash turned ever so slowly.

"You're over by Ziganka's way, aren't you?"

Ash snapped back, a pit in his stomach. "And what makes you say that?" he demanded, trying to stay calm, running his hand through his hair, examining the blond hair as if it had changed back to raven-black. How did he (or she) bloody *** know that?

"You are, aren't you?" Bobby whispered, coming to stand directly in front of him. "I've seen your face, so don't lie." Ash backed up without thinking, almost seeing behind the darkness of the cloth to a face from horror.

"I never said I wasn't," he got out, braver than he felt. ***, where was Pikachu? "What's your point?" He fingered a Pokéball nervously. Not to order attack, but as a diversion. If the words come out . . .

The cloak shrugged. "I'll make you a deal—"

"Don't ya even go there, buddy," Miriam growled, suddenly stepping between the two. "Ya say it, and ya won't be breathin' too long to repeat the request."

"Is that a threat?" the cloak asked, amused.

Shamin looked at Ash, who, to her, looked a mite pale. "What was that all about, Shan?" she whispered.

"Nothing."

Miriam crossed her arms. "Warnin', definitely a warnin'. Don't go there."

"And what are you going to do to stop me? My nails?"

"Umm, Bobby, I would stop while you're ahead," P.J. interrupted. "Just let them go. We can't use them."

"'Use them'?" Shamin mouthed to Ash.

"Hey!" Avi interrupted, breaking the fight. "What are those?" She had climbed to the ceiling and was looking out of window. "They're running around outside with the Ponyta!"

"The thing's lose?" Ginger demanded, jumping down and out the door.

"Again?" Kessie wailed.

The group quickly shuffled past the trio, but Shauna stayed. "Sorry, guys," she said softly. "They really don't get it, and we're kind of frazzled. The gig's next Saturday, and none of the Pokémon are working."

"Big surprise," Shamin snapped. "I wouldn't listen to you if I was a Pokémon."

"Let's go get Rodent and Pyro," Miriam decided, glaring at the girl. True, she had done nothing, but her friends had, and that made her just as guilty. And it would be best if they all just left as soon as possible, for privacy's sake. "And then get lost."

"Second the notion," Shamin said, and both girls marched outside.

"Look, I am sorry," Shauna said to Ash's back as he walked out.

He paused and looked back at her. "Yeah, me too," he said bitterly. Pokémon and his safety threatened in the same hour. "Maybe you should figure out that Pokémon are just like you, not some things in a story or something to do your bidding."

He walked out angrily.

****

Pyro, out of breath, ran into the tiny stable and under a box. _Doesn't Rodent ever give up?_ he panted.

Pikachu appeared only a few moments later. "_All right, Pyro! I know you're in here!"_ she announced.

He slinked back to the wall and carefully started to slither up the miscellaneous objects, ready for a tackle. She wasn't ready, totally. Suddenly he stiffened, starting to sniff the air.

"_There you are!"_ she yelled, starting to climb up to his height on some of the bales.

He tilted his head. "_Don't you smell that, Rodent?_"

"_What, you cowering in fear?_" she taunted.

"_Not in your lifetime. No, the scent, idiot._"

_This is some diversion_, Pikachu thought. Pyro was trying to buy himself some time, to get his breath back. It was quite clear to Pikachu that she was in far better shape than him, whether it be by her youth (which is debatable, since Pyro never spoke his age) or that she actually stayed fit. Yet, Pyro would never stoop to such an attempt. It was so . . . childish and stupid. She sat back on her hunches and sniffed. Actually, she didn't have to sniff. Her ears picked it up. "_What is it? GipSi?_"

Pyro shook his head, walking slowly. "_No, she's in Blondie's pocket, asleep. Won't be up for hours. This is something"—_he sniffed deeply—"_bigger. Let's check it out._"

Together, on opposite ends of the building, they started to head for the sound/scent. Pikachu saw it first, as her angle allowed her to see what Pyro couldn't. "_It's a Ponyta!_"

"_That all?_"

Pikachu leaped down and over to the stall of the sleeping Pokémon. "_Hello?"_ she said tentatively.

"_It must hurt to sleep with that on,_" Pyro commented from his ledge, looking at the reins that tied the horse to the pole. There was plenty of rope, Pyro admitted, but he didn't care for any kind of bondage. With a definite snap, he closed his jaws around the rope and gnawed through it.

The sound woke the Ponyta, and she raised her head quickly. "_Who are you?_" she demanded, flames firing. Pikachu leaped back, but Pyro watched the display as an appreciative audience.

_"Very nice_," he spoke smoothly, instantly causing the flames to lower. Pikachu groaned. He was using that voice. He always pulled that voice when he wanted something. Once Pikachu had been stupid enough to give him a bite of her chocolate bar, and the thief had taken off this the whole thing. She made a point never to listen to him when he used that weapon. "_What is your name?_"

"_Ponyta_," the Ponyta spoke, studying the fox.

Pyro arched his back. "_No, that is your species. What is your name?_" he drawled.

"_Pyro, some Pokémon are named like that,_" Pikachu reminded him. He had very Shamin and Miriam views on names.

The fox snorted. "_You are not named 'Ponyta,'_" he said in a snide voice. "_Think of a better one._"

Ponyta stood up. "_My name is Ponyta!_" she snapped, stomping her hoof. "_It is what I am called!_"

_"You're also called a fire hazard._"

"_Pyro, be nice to her: Don't talk to her. Hi, I'm Pikachu._"

"_She means Rodent._"

Ponyta looked at her. "_Which?"_

Pikachu sighed. "_Both. Rodent is . . . a term of endearment._" Pyro snorted. "_Do you want to go outside?_"

The pony looked undecided. Clearly she did, but she didn't. "_I can't_."

Pyro stood up. "_Yes you can. You can do whatever you want. Get a little backbone!_"

"_Pyro . . ._" Pikachu started out warningly.

"_I'll get in trouble._"

"_So?_"

Ponyta shook her mane, looking at the rope. The War of the Wills raged.

_"Just for a little while,_" Pyro smiled, his fangs glistening. "_You reek of stable. Haven't been out in days, I'd wager._" The pony nodded.

Pikachu perked her ears. Days? That was a long time not to be outside. "_Maybe you should come outside. To play."_

Ponyta stomped her hoof. "_All right!_" Then, with unsurpassed speed, she bolted out of the barn.

****

Pikachu gripped Ponyta's ears as she leaped over another fence. "_Can you go faster?!_" she asked, delighted.

"_She's going fast enough!"_ Pyro yelled from his back perch, tails, claws, and teeth gripping for all they were worth.

"_Yes!"_ Ponyta laughed, spinning in a fast circle. Both riders went flying. _"Sorry . . ._"

Pikachu rolled on the ground, laughing, while Pyro shook himself. "_Look, Ms. Wind Racer! I ain't tied down, so you slow up!_" he snapped, jumping back up.

"_You can't race the winds!_" Ponyta laughed, trotting, Pikachu alongside. "_They're too fast and free!_"

"_Then stop trying! And don't walk so jerky! I'm trying to rest._"

"_I'm trotting, not walking_," she corrected with a neigh, halting to allow Pyro to get comfortable. Then she stiffened. "_Uh oh . . ._"

"_What?_" Pikachu asked, looking to where the Ponyta was.

"_I have to go back in the barn,"_ Ponyta wailed, shaking her head wildly, watching as several of the group started to run towards her. "_I don't want to!_"

"_Then don't!_" Pyro laughed with a smile. "_You run faster than any Trainer. And you can torch them!_"

"_Pyro!_"

"_I can't hurt them! They're Trainers!_" Ponyta agreed.

The fox leaped down. "_Well, I could deal with them easily,_" he grinned, looking through his tails at them. "_Just say the word_."

"_No!_" Pikachu yelled.

"_Not the word I was looking for, but it'll do!_" Pyro laughed, releasing a Flame-Thrower towards the running people. They instantly stopped and ran the other way.

Ponyta laughed, stomping her hooves. "_Neat_!"

"_That's all you can say_?" Pyro grinned. "_Give it a whirl!_"

She shook her head wildly, laughing all the while. "_No, no!"_ She suddenly pranced off, dancing the horse-way.

Pikachu shook her head, looking at Pyro. "_You shouldn't have done that!_"

"_Ah, jeez, look at her. She's having fun. Her Trainers had her cooped up there for so long. And I'm not going to let them stick her back in the dark, little Rodent. So deal with it."_

"_Pyro!"_

Pikachu knew he was right, more or less, but this wasn't exactly good Pokémon behavior, although it was fun.

Ponyta gripped her tail. "_Play?"_

Pikachu smiled and nodded happily. Well, it wasn't like Pikapi was going to get terribly mad at her. And she could always blame it on Pyro.

****

She lazed on Ponyta's head while Pyro semi-dozed on her rump, tails dangling. They had been out over three hours, and all attempts by the Ponyta's Trainers to replace her back in the stable had been fixed by Pyro. Pikachu could plainly see that Chupi, Chuka, and Pikapi were watching them, uncaring as the Trainers asked for their help. Pikapi and Chupi had released all of their Pokémon a little over an hour ago, and Ponyta had chased Trigger helplessly. Right now the puppy was dead to the world, sprawled under a tree. Chitorika, Bulbasaur, Olly, and Hula were amusing themselves with grass topics, Cyndaquil was sunning himself with Cubone, and Noctowl and Angel were flying overhead. Kingler was swimming in a river, and Totodile, seeing a fun opportunity, was jumping on the sleeping Snorlax. Muk, well, it was very funny watching him try to hug the Trainers. Heracross was busy deplenishing the local trees of their sap and the two Tauros Ash had kept milled only a few feet away from Ponyta, chewing quietly.

It was a very nice day.

Lying on her back, Pikachu watched the group of Trainers. Most, now, had settled to watch Pikapi's Pokémon. Bulbasaur and Chitorika sent razor leaves and vine whips at each other, trying to see who was the better Grass Pokémon. (It was very typical of the two as of late for some reason. Olly and Hula had easily been knocked out of the competition.) Cubone had clobbered Totodile when the crocodile had tried to steal his bone, and the two then proceeded to run between the legs of the Tauros, who merely continued to chew thoughtfully.

Pikachu noticed when Pikapi suddenly started towards them, Muk at his heels. The Pokémon instantly greeted him once he reached them, but Ponyta took an apprehensive step backwards.

"_Huh, what?_" Pyro got out, lifting his head. He yawned. "_Oh, it's him._"

"_Don't worry. Pikapi's nice,_" Pikachu comforted Ponyta. "_Hey, Pikapi!"_

Ash grinned at Pikachu and Ponyta, stopping about five feet away, hands in his pockets. "Hey there. How ya doing, you guys?"

Pyro leaped down, yawning. "_I should fry you._"

"_Pyro!_"

Ash reached into his pocket and withdrew an apple. "Hungry?"

"_Don't take it. It's a bribe_," Pyro advised.

"If you are, better take it before Snorlax smells it." Already the blob's nose was sniffing. "Want it?"

Ponyta shook her head.

"Okay." Ash arched his arm and threw the apple at Snorlax. Just as the apple would have passed over the sleeping giant, Snorlax sat up, (causing Totodile to go flying,) opened his mouth, swallowed the tiny morsel, and fell back asleep. The ground shook and Trigger yelped awake. Once he saw Ash, he barked and jumped up. "Hey, Pup. Go to Shamin."

After picking up the signs, the puppy dashed off. Shamin had something for him to eat!

"So I bet all this was fun for you, huh?" Ash grinned, leaning against a tree. Ponyta backed up, flames coming up. "Well, I'm glad for you. They deserve it, the whole lot of them."

_"You can trust Pikapi,_" Pikachu smiled.

"_Can I?"_ she asked Pyro.

Pyro shifted his tails in thought. "_Well, depends on what. I, personally, wouldn't trust him with my life, but that's me. But if you're going to trust someone, he is your best bet. Very sad, actually."_

"_You can_," Pikachu repeated.

Ash wasn't even paying attention, watching the Grass types try and figure the better, when Ponyta nuzzled him. "Hey, you're a friendly girl, aren't cha? Yeah, ya are." He ran his hands over her long nose gently. "Such a pretty thing, too. Bet you ride like the wind."

Pyro snorted. "_Understatement of the year. And go figure, Blondie made it_."

"_Let him ride! Show him how fast you are!_" Pikachu grinned deviously in Ponyta's ear.

"_Try and buck him off!_" Pyro laughed, having overheard. "_Face first into the ground! Do it! Do it._"

Ponyta looked at the boy, who stood there smiling at Pyro. "What's so funny, fox?"

Pyro winked at Ponyta. "_Do it. He won't care._"

She neighed, whipping her mane, and trotted over. Then she gave her horse-smirk at Ash. This was going to be so easy.

"Gonna let me ride?" Ash asked, leaping up. "Bare with me. I haven't ridden in yyyyeeeeeeeeaaaaaarrrsssssss!"

****

The group watched as Ash rode the Ponyta.

"God, he got on the thing!" Marzena gasped. None of them had been able to do that. None of them had been able to keep from getting burned. Well, except Avi. For some reason, the curious child had been able to pet and care for the horse with ease.

"Look at her go," Sammy muttered, watching as the horse easily jumped the Tauros.

"He's actually staying on!" John countered.

P.J. crossed his arms. "I told you guys, this kid knows what he's doing!" he said smugly.

"I wanna ride," Avi sighed, standing on the railing. Daisy was directly behind in case she fell.

"Darryl, listen to this kid," P.J. continued. "He got next to that thing without getting burned by it. By the horse either. And look at the Pokémon! Just think what he could do with helping us with ours. Look, if you wanna win, I say wall the pride and ask the kid for help. Do what he says."

Carmen arched her eyebrow. "Are you suggesting—"

"Do you want to win or not?" P.J. interrupted.

They were all quiet. "I hope the kid has a cheap fee," Darryl sighed, rubbing his forehead.

****

"Are ya all right, Rough Rider? Need some more ice?"

Ash groaned, trying to fix his seat. "Shut up, Miriam. Ahhh ow . . . I will kill those two." For some reason, Pikachu and Pyro had been avoiding him, and Ash ***-well suspected why.

Shamin grinned, sipping her Coke. "So what do they have?"

"All together? A Ponyta, Psyduck, Caterpie, two Pidgey, Venonat, Diglett, a baby Onix—idiots actually thought it'd stay that size!—a Goldeen, and, whoo, Zubat, Mareep, Sunflora, Bellossom, Marrill, and they just bought an Igglybuff. Fifteen they got to get to know and trust, and vise versa." Ash groaned.

"Are they all as hopeless as the Ponyta?" Miriam smiled, stirring her tea and looking around outside the window. Blondie had ordered all the Pokémon outside and they had to groom and deal with every single one of them. The baby Onix was curled around Harris' arm, only about as long as Pyro was. She snickered at the thought of when the Onix was going to be 28, 29 feet long and over 400 pounds heavy. "Cuz if they are . . ."

"No, no, thank God. The Pidgeys are okay. They can already do tricks. Goldeen too, although it needs to get some nutrients in it otherwise it'll faint before it can do five loops. The Sunflora and Bellossom are all right, provided Daisy deals with them. Mareep refuses to work with Marrill and Psyduck and Sammy and John, but she likes Carmen. Venonat and Caterpie are hiding somewhere, and Diglett is picking on the Onix. Zubat hates being out in the daytime. I haven't seen the Igglybuff yet." Ash covered his face. He should just leave. It'd be best. Miriam even said so. She'd even said that he had to get to the next League, which set him especially suspicious, but he couldn't leave the Pokémon with Trainers like this. That was almost related to Pokémon abuse.

"Ya found this all out after an hour?" Miriam asked. He nodded hopelessly. It had been long and hard. The Trainers were nice to their Pokémon, but it was like being nice to a lamp for them. The Pokémon were just there, and, as the saying goes, "Out of sight, out of mind . . ." He had to go ground up. "Oh. Well, ya got yar work cut out for ya, then."

"Oh, yeah," Shamin piped up. "Kessie told me to tell you that you have to be up at eight tomorrow for your practice."

Ash peaked though his fingers. "What practice?"

"Didn't Miriam tell you?"

"No, she didn't. And I don't want to hear it either," Ash whined covering his ears. "Don't say it, don't say it, don't say it!"

Miriam easily pried the hand off. "I volunteered us to be part of the show!" she grinned wickedly. "Ya get to do a dance number!"

Ash slammed his head into the table. The show was in just over 10 days, and they still had to fix half the show. _I'm going to hate this_. "Why?" he moaned.

"I don't want ya just dealin' with the Pokémon," Miriam said simply. Truth be told, she didn't quite believe that everyone in this lot couldn't get the Pokémon to do decent attacks. (Well, minus the young girl, Avi, and Daisy, for the most part.) Worst lie in the world. Why, Miriam knew for a fact that she could order Blondie's Pokémon around, and most didn't even like her. (She'd made the fire one start a fire when Pyro caught his cold. It didn't like her, but it listened.) Well, Miriam didn't care that some might be able to deal with the Pokémon. She one only worried about one, and that one she'd deal with personally. But best to play it safe and keep him groups that she could trust. "Isn't good . . ."

****

"All right, do you have any experience?" Kessie asked.

"What do you think?" Ash asked dryly, rubbing his eyes and yawning. The Igglybuff wouldn't go to sleep, and some genius decided to stick it with him last night. That person was going to die. Painfully. Briefly he wondered if Togepi was that annoying. If it was, Ash was _glad_ Misty got stuck with it. Let her have every single baby Pokémon that cried and didn't want to sleep and was hungry and spit on him and pulled his hair and nose and eyelid and lips and was just so *** annoying!

"Hmm, yes."

"No. I have no experience making a fool of myself on stage."

Kessie grinned. "Okay. Can you dance?"

"No."

"Can you sing?"

"No."

She blinked her eyes. "Man, you are screwed. You still got to dance, though. Let's started at the beginning." She pointed down. "This is the floor and your feet walk on the floor."

Ash groaned.

"Am I going to fast for you?"

****

"Ya look exhausted," Miriam said with false pity, thus waking Ash up from his light doze.

"Go . . . away, far away. I hate you. A lot," he muttered, curling back into a ball. "I can't walk, I can't sit, and I think the Igglybuff, uh, BonBon threw up in my hair."

"Look at the plus side! All the stuff ya can put on yar resume!" Miriam looked around the room, raising her eyebrow.

"You're enjoying this," Ash stated, eyes still closed.

"Of course, Blondie. It's makin' ya miserable." He chuckled weakly. "Ya gonna get up?"

"No," he responded with a slight moany whine.

"Well, I was gonna go get some ice cream."

Ash peeked out. "Can I get a triple scoop of chocolate with sprinkles and whip cream and those little cookie bits?"

"Do I look like a waitress?"

"Yes."

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that." Sighing, Miriam gripped him by the arm and yanked. "Come on!"

Ash fell from the couch. "Fine . . . fine, coming! Let go! This hurts!"

They stole P.J.'s truck, and Miriam coasted down the road at out twenty miles over the limit. Ash slumped down in his seat, ready to sleep again.

"Why the Hell are ya so tired?" Miriam smiled, looking over at him.

"Last night I had to get Zubat to get his loops right. We made the deal that we'd practice at night if he did the show during the day. He is such a pain in the neck, I almost sicced Noctowl on him, but they won't let me. And then BonBon used my head as a trampoline. I don't know how Professor Oak can deal with so many Pokémon at once."

"He's not exactly trainin' them, is he? Just carin' for them," Miriam pointed out. "Big difference."

Ash made a sound of affirmation, and smiled. "At least they like their Trainers, and they Trainers are liking them. They just had to spend time with each other." It always amazed him how willing Pokémon were to accept their Trainers. For whatever the reason, a Pokémon after capture would welcome their new Trainer. The psychology behind it was still in the works, and many scientists dedicated their lives and professions to understanding exactly _why_ Pokémon did this.

"That's what everyone has to do." Miriam turned onto the highway.

He stretched. "You seem to be having fun. Yesterday you and Ginger got in that fight." It seemed Miriam was only happy if she made someone else's life miserable.

Miriam grinned. "She can't tell her left from her right. What can I say?"

"Sorry would have help."

She sniffed. "I don't say _those_ kind of words." Miriam turned the wheel until she was at the parked into the small café. "Come on. We got to get back before the practice."

"We don't have to."

"Ya're so cute," she cooed from outside the truck.

Ash slid out of his seat and slammed the door shut. "You, too, Miriam."

She grinned at him, entering the building. The restaurant was empty, Ash found out when he entered. Miriam was already up by the counter ordering the very stereotypical banana split.

"Why did you want ice cream? Isn't that really fattening?" Ash asked once his order was taken.

"I didn't want it. But I figured ya did. Ya been killin' yarself, Kiddo," Miriam smiled softly. "Best if ya got away."

Ash stared as the bowl was set in front of him. "I don't need to get away," he muttered, picking up a spoon and poking it.

"Don't play with it. Eat it," she scolded, ever the hypocrite, picking at her own. "Yes, ya do, anyway. Ya don't sleep. And don't give me the BonBon excuse."

"That's all that it is." He never could lie, and he knew that Miriam could tell he was lying now. He didn't sleep because he was slightly worried, and he didn't sleep when he was worried. Bobby knew something about him, that much was obvious. Knew the full score, most likely, by the words spoken. Ash was waiting for the drop, though. It would be coming soon.

"Whatever." She took a bite. "So what are ya doin' with the Pokémon?"

Ash smiled, eyes sparkling. "I've gotten it so Avi can ride the Ponyta, doing tricks. I couldn't keep her from doing them, actually. But I don't really know what'd going on after that. All they have me do is help them with the more difficult things. I hardly even see my Pokémon." Ash chuckled weakly. "And Kessie's complaining because I can't even get my minute dance right."

"I've seen this. Poor, poor Daisy can barely walk because ya step on her feet so much."

He shrank. "I don't try. Why can't they just use one song? I mean, you don't need one of those mixes of songs for a show."

"Hey, Carmen and Harris and whomever put a lot of work into those scores. And they're good," Miriam chided him. "They need to tell the judges that they're good in everything. Sides, one requirement is original music."

Ash frowned at her. "Why'd you even volunteer me?"

"Ya need experience."

"In dancing?" Ash asked darkly.

"Girls like guys who can dance." Ash choked. "They do," she said coyly.

"You know," he snapped, spitting the food out into a napkin. "I don't need your help in . . . in _that_, all right!"

Miriam grinned wickedly, watching him blush ferociously. "Whatever ya say." She twirled her fork through her whip cream. "Ya know, Blondie, we've known each other over a full year now."

"So?"

"I've wasted a full year of my life baby-sittin' ya, with ya bein' a dorky little brother and all. Very dorky. I just want ya to know ya can tell me anythin' ya need to, right?"

"And what would I have to tell you?" Ash asked curiously.

Miriam smiled. "Absolutely nothing. _Blondie_." She put more emphasis on the nickname than usual. "Come on. We got to get goin'."

"But I haven't finished—"

****

Shamin leaned against the fence, head on her arms, watching the sun set. It was beautiful.

"Very pretty, isn't it?" She turned rapidly, startled, to see Bobby strolled up, Zubat fluttering above. She didn't fail to notice the bandage on one of its ears and smiled inwardly. The upstart bat finally received lessons of importance. She hadn't witnessed it, but she had heard the scuffle. "Sorry to have startled you."

"No problem," Shamin smiled, looking back at the sun. She saw Pikachu playing with Chitorika, loops and moves practiced.

"Your boyfriend trains his Pokémon well. Very well. He's done wonders with ours, also." She chuckled as the Zubat chipped helplessly. "Or at least something like that."

"That's Shan," Shamin smiled, a slight flush in her cheeks at the term. Truth be told, though, she considered just going back to "friend." In her mind, they weren't a very good couple because neither of them did anything in terms of romance. Shamin, well, she was too *** shy, and she had no idea what went through a guy's mind about this stuff. "So what are you doing for the show? I never see you dancing or whatever."

Bobby sighed, leaning against the railing. "I'm not in any of the numbers, well, on stage. I run effects and choreography. It's me that suggested the Pokémon idea, although not like this. Just a small thing. That's why we caught the Pidgeys. You know, like a magic number. P.J. blew it out of proportion. He thinks too big for himself, but he's a great salesman, and boy, did he sell it to us." She chuckled humorlessly.

_Sounds kind of familiar. _"Oh."

"Well, someone's got to do play director. Can't bloody image the others running the show."

Shamin looked at the cloak. "If you don't quite mind me asking, why do you always wear the cloak and gloves? Image?"

"No, no. Nothing that stupid."

"Then what?"

"What do you know about . . . Shan?" Bobby sounded interested, Shamin couldn't help but notice.

Shamin frowned. "Well, what do you know about him? You rattled him when you said he was from Ziganka. I thought he was from some city called Pallet Town. That's where all his letters go."

"Pallet Town?" Bobby repeated, curious.

"It's where his mom lives. He writes to her all the time."

"Really?"

"Yep. Usually he writes maybe twice a month, but sometimes more."

Bobby suddenly looked beaten, the shoulders sagging. "Oh."

Shamin nodded. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason."

She frowned, disliking it when someone opened the can and didn't at least tell her what was in it. "Well, so why do wear that cloak?" Shamin repeated.

Bobby sighed, slowing peeling off her gloves. Shamin was suddenly horrified. The skin was red and blotchy, scar tissue from burns. She looked on as Bobby lowered the hood. Most of the hair, a deep raven-tinted purple, was gone, showing only burned scalp. The face itself was like the hands and scalp, except for a small arch along the right cheek and eye. The left eye . . . or lack of, Shamin gulped, had but on socket, and the right, the skin was peeling down like the face was melting, and eye was terribly red. The face looked like a Freddie Krueger mask, only all too real. Shamin truly tried to keep her face neutral, but her mouth was dry.

"What happened?"

The face smiled crookedly, just as rapidly replacing the hood. "Minor explosion," the hoarse voice cackled, no longer whispering. Shamin briefly saw a deep, wide scar across her neck.

"Minor?"

"Well, I could have died," Bobby replied. "It doesn't matter how it happened, but it happened. I always figured that maybe I could get some plastic surgery once I got the money. Part of why I joined this little group. I knew Darryl and Carmen from school, and, well, I guess they took pity on me," she said snippety, sarcasm deep.

"Well, I . . ."

Bobby chuckled. "But hey, there are more ways to get money, you know. Sweepstakes, contest, lottery, rewards, whatever," Bobby continued almost shamefully. "I thought your friend could _help_ me."

"Shan? How?"

"I mistook him for someone else," Bobby sighed. "There's a reward out for him. Big reward. It wouldn't pay for the whole surgery, but it'd be a start."

"Maybe you can disguise him as the guy. Tape his mouth first so he can't blab, though. Got the worst conscience in the world," Shamin laughed. "Then take the money and run. There's a Miriam idea."

Bobby laughed. "Actually, I planned to blackmail him into helping, help us win, then call up for the reward anyway. Then I'd end up with both areas of money."

"What's the kid's name?"

"Ketchum, Ash Ketchum."

Shamin laughed. "What a dumb name! _Ketchum_. Ash _Ketchum!_"

"What?" demanded a startled voice.

"Oh, hey, Shan," Shamin grinned. "Where'd you go? They cancelled the practice until tomorrow, and I was going to tell you."

"Well, that would have come in handy before Miriam got the speeding ticket," he frowned. He licked his lips nervously, trying to sound calm. "So what's this about Ash Ketchum? Friend of yours?"

"No, nothing," Bobby said shortly. "What did you want?"

Ash rubbed the back of his head. "I just saw you guys talking . . ." Yeah, he had, and wanted to know about what. And then he had heard him name. "Practice tomorrow?" he said, changing the subject.

"Ten in the morning."

Ash blinked. "Zubat's okay with this?"

"Yeah. Foxy-Woxy convinced him the error of his ways," Bobby smirked, nodding towards the wound.

So Pyro hated the midnight practices as much as everyone else. "Oh. Well, see you tomorrow, then. Night?" He backed up slowly.

"Night," both of them said simultaneously.

Ash turned and started to walk back, looking over his shoulder like a scared rabbit. What the Hell was that about? His hands wrung nervously.

****

Pikachu leaped onto Ash's bare shoulder as he brushed his teeth. "Pikachu pika ka, chu?"

"Yeah, long time no see is right," Ash grinned. "How ya doing?"

"Pi," she shrugged, grinning.

Ash spit the paste out, then looked in the mirror for a long time at the face that looked back. Ash never considered himself a vain person, and hence never took much time to look in the mirror. (The latter was mostly because he'd have to fight for his life to get a minute alone with the mirror and/or bathroom with his companions.) He didn't have time to care about his appearance, and mirrors in the middle of the forest were indeed rare. So he did a near blink in surprise at the person who looked back.

Did he really look like that?

His hair needed to be re-dyed; the roots were dark again. He always let that slip him mind. His hair grew faster than he thought, and once Shamin—they must compete for the Dunce Award, Miriam muttered—had asked if his hair really was blond. He'd asked what gave her that idea, and she said his hair was growing out and it looked like crap. His hair also needed to be cut. His bangs were long enough to be scooped into the ponytail, but rarely did they stay because they weren't quite that long. Ash frowned, fingering a tress that rested at the side of his face. All this hair and he still didn't shave. Somehow it didn't seem right, especially at his age.

Yet his hair really didn't bother Ash. He knew it was long. What surprised him was his face. He looked . . . older. Well, he thought with satisfaction, he was almost fifteen. One five. Hard to believe he was just thirteen (_and a half_, he added mentally,) when he left. His fourteenth had past almost unnoticed while he travels, and his next was a little over month away.

He had a deep tan over his face, which suddenly sprinkled a lighter color over his neck, chest and arms, for his turtleneck blocked the sun. He had happily changed into the short-sleeved shirt as of late, or, sometimes, no shirt. It was a circumstance that had ensued an interesting conversation between him and the girls about toplessness, to be sure. Miriam had offhandedly commented that women couldn't go topless while men could, and Ash had countered without thinking—he had been busy doting over Chitorika—that it was because they couldn't. Shamin had then coyly asked why, and Ash had ended up blushing (which Miriam noticed pasted all over his chest like a thermometer on the rise) as he tried to babble and stammer the two reasons why to the entire female audience. He found he couldn't, and finally just asked rather harshly if they'd like it if girls could go topless too. Miriam said—so deadpan and serious, without even smiling—not really, but that'd it'd be nice if men wore "bikini tops" for "modesty's sake," and then threw one of her bras at him. Ash remembered hearing all of them laugh when he caught it, looked at it horrified, dropped it, and fell backwards over some roots. For some time afterwards he didn't go topless, case Miriam should be serious. (He hadn't noticed her bra wouldn't fit him.)

In any case, Ash looked at himself. His face had thinned out so that his cheekbones were more defined, and it did something to his face alone. His deep brown eyes rested on something besides babyfat, and arched over them were eyebrows that had gotten thicker. The chin was more defined, the nose was still there, the ears—well, they were hidden by hair. True, he won't be able to get a drink without getting carded—he still had the boyish look about him—but he could at least get into the bar. He made a crooked smile. He wasn't half-bad.

Not at all.

Pikachu tilted her head, watching as Ash studied himself in the mirror. He acted like he was looking at a stranger. Pikachu almost laughed aloud. How could he be surprised at his own reflection? "Pikapi?" she asked, looking at the mirror while he smiled.

"Hmm?" Ash asked, turning his eyes to look at her image in the mirror. "What?"

"Chu pika chuka pikachu," she smiled, poking him teasingly.

"I know what I look like," Ash half-lied. _I just didn't know I looked like that_. He set the tap running and bent down to wash his face in the cool water, leaving Pikachu to have to grip his hair to stay upon his shoulder.

"Chu pikachu!" she scolded while he groped for a towel.

"Sorry," Ash grinned though the towel, standing up. With one last smile at the mirror, he gripped his shirt and left the bathroom.

"Finally," Jeromy snarled, storming past him roughly. "There'd better be hot water left this time!"

Ash dropped his mouth to counter. It wasn't like he was in there long. Five minutes tops, and he hadn't even showered. (He had last night.) Then he snapped it shut and looked down the line of the men in the line. Sammy was standing, crossing and uncrossing his legs, trying to convince John or Harris to changed places with him for he "really has to go!" Darryl was standing, agitated, next in line. His seniority of the group gave him no bathroom rights.

"I tell you, you've got to find a place with more than two bathrooms!" P.J. grumbled, arms crossed. "I'd rather drive forty-five minutes to here from my place than wait in line to take a dump!"

"Then do it!" Darryl snapped harshly.

"Why do the girls get the bigger bathroom?" Sammy whined from the end of the line.

Dave approached, rubbing his eyes sleepily as he escaped his room. Then he saw the line. "Ah, crap!"

"Watch your mouth!"

Ash smiled, walking away. "Thanks for waking me up, Pikachu." It was really worth waking up early if it meant he didn't have to wait for the bathroom.

"Pika," she grinned.

"Come on, John! I'll give you five bucks! I really have to GO!"

"Make it thirty and you got a deal."

"JOHN!"

****

Bobby sat on the fence holding the clipboard and studying the chart. BonBon sat next to her, but it found that every time it tried to get onto the lap, a hand slapped it away less than gently. It was slowly getting the impression that it was very well liked here. The rest of the group mingled in front of them, and Ash felt out of place. What exactly was he supposed to do now? His Pokémon around him were more at ease than he, and Ash struggled to keep his composure.

He had been rather ticked to find that he could have played his flute, which, he noted almost surprised, he hadn't touched for over a month. Miriam had _neglected_ to tell them that he could, and now it was too late. Bobby was already harassed, having had to rewrite most of her chart, and Ash didn't want to talk one-on-one with her. Miriam managed to weasel herself into a position of playing a minor improved sax intro (because, Ash theorized bitterly, she couldn't actually read music). Shamin managed to be an understudy for any girl dancer, which meant she didn't know how to do anything, Ash surmised. (What an idiot.) Jeromy was the male understudy, and Ash toyed with the idea of breaking his leg to get out of this whole deal.

Ash sighed and looked around the group again. Most everyone here was someone related to at least one other person, and that person somehow tied to Darryl, Carmen, and Bobby, whether they be friends, relatives, or whatever. From what he had gathered, their little troupe was a bit of an entertainment biz, and not quite this big usually. This time, though, the younger relatives—normally, this was just Darryl, Bobby, Carmen, P.J., John, Harris, Kessie, and Ginger—came along for the ride. Kessie, Ginger, and P.J. were the main vocals, although John was supposed to be able to sing well, and the others dealt with the music (by writing or playing respectively) or managing the gigs. The extra people here only managed to ruin their carefully laid hierarchy of command, and left the many for want of a task, as the plan was exceedingly true to the original group.

Chitorika rubbed up against his leg. "Chitco!" she spoke happily, interrupting his thoughts.

Ash grinned, bending down and twirling her leaf around with his finger. "You having fun, huh? All you guys?" The whole group, especially Totodile but minus Snorlax, nodded with excitement. It was fun, this mock battling. Of course, they hadn't been able to get GipSi to follow orders. She mostly resided in the trees and watched the excitement with sparkling eyes, but did venture down when John juggled during his freetime to entertain himself. The juggler blinked in surprise every time one of the balls that should have landed into his hand didn't.

"Talking to the critters again, I see. Fine sign of insanity, that is," Daisy smiled, almost limping over. "A nut who can't dance. I get all the luck." She lowered herself to the ground, breathing relief when her feet were up in the air. Bulbasaur rubbed against her, and Cyndaquil curled into her lap.

"I didn't step on your feet that much," he said defensively, sitting down next to her.

Daisy smiled, talking off her hat and leaning back in the light. "I have weak ankles. Sometimes they just give out on me. I'd rather help Jeromy and Dave with effects. Now my back, that hurts because of you. You don't have to dip-de-dip me so deep."

"You're taller than me," Ash smiled.

"And what's that have to do with it?" Daisy laughed, pushing him roughly. "Height isn't a factor. Control is." Daisy sighed, wrapping an arm around him and holding him close. "But you shall owe me a foot massage when this is all through." Ash opened his mouth to protest. "And don't say you can't, because I've seen you massage your Pokémon when their muscles are sore. And it looks like it's nice."

The Pokémon all nodded. Ash took great pride in knowing how to ease the pain of Pokémon, having even taken classes in the area. They thoroughly believed that **if** their Trainer couldn't become the World's Greatest Master Pokémon Trainer, then he'd sure to be the World's Greatest Pokémon Masseur. He was that good under their critical gaze. It was something they'd brag about to other Pokémon.

Ash smiled hopelessly. "We'll see," he sighed, closing his eyes and wrapping an arm around her, allowing himself to rest his head on her shoulder. It was a nice shoulder.

"All right, team!" Darryl yelled loudly.

"We're two feet away! You don't have to yell!" P.J. laughed.

"Get serious! The gig is tomorrow! Two in the afternoon!" Carmen scolded, punching him in the arm so hard that P.J. winced and rubbed his arm to send the pain away. "So just shut up!"

"Easy, you two!" Harris sighed, looking up from the baby Onyx, which had unofficially been dubbed his and ChaCha. "We can't afford any casualties."

"I think Carmen'd win," Avi grinned.

"Of course she'd win," John agreed.

"Living proof that girls kick butt," Kessie smirked.

"_Girl_," P.J. corrected dully. "You couldn't beat me up."

Darryl hung his head hopelessly. "Guys, please." No one paid him that much mind, a few continuing their aimless chatter.

Bobby crossed her arms and swung her leg impatiently. "Hello! Would you asses get your asses in gear, please!" she yelled in her grating voice, slamming the chart down on the fence. "I did not spend my nights preparing to lose! So shut up and _line up!_"

Miriam nudged Shamin. "I think I like her," she smirked. Shamin had related the story of Bobby over to her, and Miriam had felt the responsibility for Ash lessen. It was, though, to her, very ironic that Bobby should believe herself wrong when she was so right.

No one actually moved, except Ash, who did jump up at the command. Bobby always yelled when she was stressed, and she was a ticking time bomb.

"Pika?" Pikachu questioned, looking at the group confused. You don't just stop practicing! You keep on going otherwise you don't win! "Chu pika?"

"Nine," Pyro yawned lazily, standing to stretch.

"So are we going to practice or not?" Darryl demanded harshly. It would be better if they saw him as a leader to be obeyed and not just listened to, the obeying part optional.

Ginger looked up from her nails, sitting sidesaddle on Ponyta. "We know what we're doing, Darryl. We don't have to practice. It'll just mess up our nerves."

"As accustomed to walking in and messing up because we haven't practiced as much as we should have," he countered dangerously.

"Darryl, we'll do fine," Jules protested. "We don't need to practice anything. We've already got it prefect. Bobby even said so."

"My views of perfection can change," Bobby muttered.

"I say we put it to a vote," Dave suggested, jumping up from the fence. It caused Avi to lose her balance and fall, but Daisy quickly caught her and both tumbled to the ground. "Oops, sorry. I say everyone in favor of going back to bed raise their hands." His instantly went up.

"It's ten in the morning," Darryl snapped, glaring as the mass majority of the main group raised their hands.

"Pika . . ." Pikachu said warningly to Pyro, whose tails were raised just a little higher than usual.

He glared at her. "Nine ale ta," he snipped, but his tails lowered.

"Pii," she said sarcastically, crossing her arms. Pyro merely looked insolently at her.

"All those opposed?"

Darryl, Carmen, Bobby, and Avi raised their hands, although impressionable Avi probably just raised it because they did.

Pikachu raised her paw as well, then looked up at Ash. "Pikapi?" she said sweetly, setting her tail on his shoe. She knew he hadn't voted previously because he didn't really think he had a choice in the matter. Shamin and Miriam also hadn't taken part in the voting because they saw it as not being their place. He sighed and raised his hand obediently, not seeing how one more vote would help the matter anyway. In all totality, even though not everyone had voted, those for returning to bed out-numbered those who opposed.

"Well, let's count!" P.J. laughed. "One . . . two . . . three . . . four . . . five. We w—"

"Pikachu!" Pikachu interrupted, pointing to herself.

"Ya didn't count Rodent," Miriam smiled. "Or the rest of them."

The group suddenly looked at the Pokémon. Ash's Pokémon, following his and Pikachu's suit, had also raised their miscellaneous paws, wings, and vines. The other Pokémon, following _their_ example, had also raised their appendages. In ended up with every single Pokémon—except Pyro, Snorlax, and BonBon—voting with the five humans.

"I think we win, P.J," Carmen grinned, wrapping an arm around the man's shoulder. "You don't have to count them."

"That's . . . that's not fair," he muttered. "They—"

"Are as much the show as us, so _line up!_" Bobby ordered. They did so.

Pyro blocked Pikachu's way. "Ine ales, Ninetales!" he accused.

She batted her eyes coyly. "Pi?" Then, laughing, she ran over to Ash.

****

"More wood, more wood!" Kessie cackled evilly, causing Shauna to break out laughing as she looked at the towering mass.

"Why don't we just light the forest on fire?"

"Because Smokey won't like that!" Dave grinned, depositing even more wood on the fire. "'Only _you_ can prevent forest fires!' Oh, no, BonBon!" He quickly grabbed the baby, who planned on removing a stick from the bottom of the pile. "Here! You take her." He passed the pink ball over to Shauna, then shuddered. "Too . . . cute."

"Yes she is," Shauna giggled, rubbing noses with it.

"I love her so much!" Kessie agreed, ticking the pink ball. "All the guys hate her!"

"Because she's annoying," Ash growled from his seat on a log. A few of the guys agreed, taking time from their precious marshmallow gambling to show their dislike.

"I'll raise you two pink ones."

Ginger appeared with the lighter fluid. "Save us some marshmallows, boys," she growled, stealing one of them.

Darryl sighed. "We should be getting a good night's sleep," he repeated.

Marzena laughed. "Ease up. We are relaxing with a big old bonfire. We'll sleep on the way down. Now, Ginger, light it!"

Miriam shook her head, crouching next to Ash with Pyro on her lap. "I never was a bonfire-kind of person. They're all pyros." Pyro snorted at the statement. "I didn't mean to insult ya."

Ash sighed, watching as Ginger doused the pile with the fluid. He never actually bothered to build bonfires either. Brock always yelled at him for throwing too much wood into the fire for no reason, for they couldn't spend all night keeping it going. It was a waste of wood. Misty deemed it childish, although she always threw in an extra stick when Brock wasn't looking.

He covered his eyes when it suddenly turned ablaze, towering high into the sky. Miriam literally fell back to avoid the blast of heat, having a grip upon Ash's arm and bringing him with her. Ash ended up half on and half off the log at an uncomfortable angle, but he was better off than Pyro. The fox had rolled up and over Miriam and now was shaking himself, recovering wounded pride, although no one truly saw his fall. Had it been anyone other than Miriam who caused his fall, they would receive painful retribution for his humility. They should have expected the heat wave. But Miriam he could over-look. Blondie had distracted her, and hence it was _his_ fault.

"We are movin' this log back," Miriam grumbled as Ash helped her back up, eyes squinted to protect them from the light. Yet, despite her complaint, she made no motion to do so.

"Marshmallow?" Shamin asked, appearing with a bag of marshmallow, which she had pilfered from the gambling men. They had yet to notice, too busy arguing about the worth of the melting ones. After all, you lost some of the value every time you touched them, the goo stuck to your fingers and all.

"Those are disgustin'!" Miriam shuddered, allowing Pyro to curl back onto her lap. "Like pillowed chalk."

Ash raised on eyebrow, taking a handful and popping all of the them in his mouth, then entering the difficult task of chewing them all.

Miriam and Shamin both looked at him in disgust.

"Whah?" He picked a marshmallow out with his fingers.

"You do have a big mouth," Shamin said shaking her head, picking out her own marshmallow.

"Oi, I'm gonna be sick."

The group sat around the fire, chowing on marshmallows or making lighted torches with them, whichever the person preferred. Some of the lesser "there" members danced idiotically around the fire, in crazy chants and dances, their bodies only shadows to the watchers.

"I would like to recite a poem!" P.J. announced. Darryl groaned, but the others looked at the man intrigued.

"I think I know it," Jules drawled. Kessie and Ginger both nodded, and in chorus, they started to say:

"I once knew I girl from Nan-tuck-It!—"

"There are children here!" Carmen snapped.

Kessie nodded. "Oh, we know. Look at him."

P.J. ignored the comment. "I wrote this poem myself. Drums, if you please." Harris looked at his friend from under his bushy brows. "_Dr-ums_ . . ."

The percussionist sighed. "This is going to be one of those stupid coffee-house poetry things, isn't it?" he asked, trying to suppress a shudder. He had worked there for a bit during High School, and the ideas of poetry still made his blood run cold.

"Cool!" Kessie said. She loved those poetry gatherings.

P.J. cleared his throat and nodded at Harris, who obliged to do a drum-roll on a log. "I call this poem . . . _Hip Hop_." He paused, then spoke solemnly. "Hip." The tap of the drum.

"Hip Hop." A longer drum-roll.

The voice was dead-pan. "Hop Hip-Hip." The drum-roll.

"Hop Hip." Again with the drum-roll, shorter, to match the syllables.

"Hip Hop." A flip of a drum-roll.

P.J. grinned deviously.

"_Bo-ing!_" he intoned perfectly, like a spring heard in so many cartoons.

A few laughed helplessly, and even Darryl and Carmen bared a mutual, exasperated grin. P.J. bowed.

"Pikachu, Chitorika, you both look like idiots," Ash grinned, still amused by the "poem", as the duo appeared, both smeared with lipstick in some crude attempt to look wild and primitive. He didn't know where they got such immaturity from. Certainly wasn't _him_.

And, as he looked around, he had a sneaking suspicion as to _where_ or _whom_ it was from.

The Pokémon grinned and nodded, suddenly leaping upon their Trainer and rubbing their cheeks against him, spreading the make-up onto him.

"Ah, knock it off!" he laughed, pushing them aside. He rubbed his cheek, hence smearing the paste further and deeper.

"I think ya're more of a rosy beige," Miriam yawned, somewhere between bored and tired. Pyro had fallen asleep behind her boots, ears bent in such a way as to block the racket as best they could. He twitched his nose but did not wake as Pikachu and Chitorika took to applying make-up powder upon him. Chitorika helped by giving a very mild dose of Sleeping Powder to the fox. No sense in taking stupid risks without due precaution, as she saw it. Pikachu agreed.

"What are you two doing?" Ash demanded, bending down to look level at them, but not noticing the two hiding something behind their backs. Due to the poor lighting, he did not notice their mischief either. "You leave Pyro alone. The last thing we need is him chasing after you guys in a bloody rage."

They smiled innocently at him, walking away backwards so he did not see the evidence. "Pi, Pikapi."

"Chi."

He followed them with his eyes, wondering about their actions. "Those two—"

"The fire's dying! Put more wood on it!" Dave yawned, blinking his eyes sleeping. He was laying next to Avi, herself unconscious.

"Is there anymore wood?" John asked, looking up from his game with Harris, the only two who remained still in combat.

"No. P.J. put the last armload on," Jules smiled.

Darryl stood up. "Then that means—"

Ginger interrupted. "Let's have one of the Pokémon zoom it up! For their fun, not so they exhaust themselves," she stated as Ash prepared to object.

There were four Fire-types to choose from—Ponyta, Pyro, Trigger, and Cyndaquil. Unfortunately (or fortunately) Trigger was with Bobby, who flat-out, even panicky, refused to even go near or look at the bonfire brigade. Ponyta was dead to the world next to the Tauros, and Pyro, no idiot was going to wake him up if he didn't want to be woken up.

"What do ya say, Cyndy?" Ginger grinned, picking up the Fire type.

He sighed at their immaturity, then looked at Ash, who's motion said that it was up to him. "Quil." Rolling his eyes hopelessly as he was set down, Cyndaquil took stance and glared at the fire. His back erupted into flames and he blew, instantly setting the fire into the sky with a towering height. The Trainers looked at him in awe, the shadows splashing across their faces in ancient dances that were apart of his acidic blood.

The fire was blown large and beautiful, and the heat was immense, engulfing them in a cloud. A few of them complained—it was hot enough in the June air, they didn't need help sweating, but Cyndaquil ignored them, intent on destroying the last logs.

It was a great surprise when the fire suddenly doubled in size that even Cyndaquil backed up in surprise.

"Cyn?" he murmured, the sounds of the Trainers beyond his ears. He blinked in surprise when he saw the familiar set of red eyes stare through the fire. "Quil qui cyn."

Pyro stood erect, the fire dancing around in his paws and tails, unable to burn him. Cyndaquil blinked in surprise, for you had to be at a high level for such a thing to happen, even for a fire Pokémon. He merely ignored the statement and licked his lips, bored, and watched as the fire lowered.

"Quil, cynda."

Pyro cocked his head, then blew a tiny fireball towards the fire, alighting it anew.

Cyndaquil bristled. He knew how Pyro was, but that was no excuse. Insult to name . . .

"Cynda . . ." he growled. Pyro merely grinned and bowed his head, in acceptance or otherwise.

****

Miriam nudged Ash. "Yar little fire Rodent got insulted, I think," she grinned, watching as Cyndaquil sparked a great fire at the fire, blazing it anew. Pyro countered lazily.

"Your fox looks . . . different." He glared at Pikachu and Chitorika, who smiled sheepishly.

"I won't tell him." Miriam whistled, watching the silent dual. The others had also settled to watch, intrigued. "Cool battle."

"It's like they did in the Orange Islands," Ash smiled. "I used Water type to see which was better trained."

"I didn't need a synopsis."

Shamin frowned. "I think Pyro's going to win."

Ash sighed. "I wouldn't doubt it. Cyndaquil is way below his level for this kind of battle, and his tactics aren't the best." He didn't sound ashamed to admit it, but saddened.

"My baby is so cool," Miriam cooed.

The unofficial battle continued for many minutes, Pyro in all his calm acceptance and cool display, Cyndaquil in growing anger that this wasn't even weakening the opponent in the slightest. It was his anger that Cyndaquil, usually calm and levelheaded, if lethargic, blew his fire with more vigor, more brilliance, more power.

The logs were long since been destroyed, the fire only powerful by the steady stream of Ember attacks.

"This is a Pokémon battle?" Harris murmured.

"More or less."

"Wow," Jules muttered. "No wonder they outlawed it."

Ash frowned and looked at them, but didn't say anything to counter, suddenly drawing his eyes back to Cyndaquil. He started to stand up. Enough of this foolishness. The last thing he needed was for Cyndaquil to Faint on him.

"Chu, Pikapi," Pikachu murmured, grabbing the hem of his pants and shaking her head.

"Chit ko, cho it," Chitorika added.

Ash looked at them, then back at Cyndaquil, settling back down. His lips were in a fine line. "If you say so."

There was a sudden collective gasp that went through the audience, and Ash blinked as the soft glow enveloped Cyndaquil.

"What's happening?" someone demanded.

"Cyndaquil's . . . evolving," Ash murmured, looking at his little shoulder Pokémon. "You knew."

They didn't reply, watching as Cyndaquil slowly grew and changed, metamorphosing into Quilava. The new Trainers, even Miriam and Shamin, had never witnessed a Pokémon evolving and were stunned into silence, eyes and mouths little O's.

Quilava threw back his head and left out a giant Ember, then blew back at the fire. Pyro watched as calmly as he had before, no expression on his make-up covered muzzle, and did not continue the Battle. Instead, he turned and trotted over to Miriam and curled up onto her lap.

"Hey . . . Quilava," Ash grinned, kneeling down next to his Pokémon and petting it, letting the fire dance through his fingers. "Good job."

"That's cheating," Miriam muttered, petting her fox but studying the Fire-mohawked Pokémon like everyone else.

Darryl cleared his throat. "This isn't going to mess up our performance, is it?"

The silence dropped a few more notches, and everyone looked nervous.

Ash smiled and chuckled quietly, looking at Quilava's eyes as the Pokémon himself laughed quietly. "No."

****

Darryl looked at his troupe with a very serious look on his face—even more serious than usual. A clipboard was in his hands. "All right, guys."

They all waited patiently. Darryl and Carmen always took care of all the paperwork, but the duo had suddenly called an emergency meeting once they got to the Hall.

The pen was poised over the paper. "What's our name?"

Miriam collapsed from her seat. "Ya guys never even thought of a name?" she demanded, shocked. "I thought ya had a business."

"We've decided that name is not very good," Carmen said deadpan, and several of the members nodded in silent agreement.

"What were you called?" Shamin asked, fixing a bow on Trigger.

"That's not important," Kessie smiled. "Right now, we got to think of a new name!"

Almost instantly the younger members started to call out names, most which couldn't be differentiated from the next one. Darryl held up his hands.

"Quiet! One, the group is not going to be called 'P.J.'s Peanut Butter!'" He glared at the man in question, as it was the only suggested title he understood.

"I like it!"

Carmen crossed her arms. "I think—_we_ think it's best if the name doesn't have any of our names in it, since no one is really the leader." Most of the people nodded, although some looked dejected.

"So, any suggestions?" Darryl asked again. "One at a time."

Ash looked around, surprised that no one offered his or her immense wisdom in the naming process. It seemed that a lot of the suggested names had someone's name in it.

Bobby cleared her throat, leaning against the frame. Everyone looked at her. "We want something daring, something that says _Us_."

"Yeah?"

"Something . . . taboo, perhaps."

"No X-rated crap," P.J. reminded. "Naughty, naughty."

Bobby's hood moved towards him. "Shut up and get your mind out of the gutter. I was thinking something dealing with Pokémon. Since we are using them and all."

"Makes sense," Jules nodded.

Ash started to go through all the Pokémon-related words he could think of in his head. _Pokéball, Poképed—__**dex**__! *** you, Miriam and Shamin._

Darryl looked around. "Simplicity is best. How about _The Pokémon_?"

Simple was right, although that didn't make it the best. Miriam gave a small snort along with Kessie and Ginger.

"We don't have time for this. Just put it down," Harris sighed.

Darryl shrugged. "We're _The_ _Pokémon_"

"Name subject to change," Carmen added, seeing the disappointed looks.

Miriam shook her head. "Next time think of the name _before_ ya come to the competition. God, even in the Tunnels we knew better than _that_."

Shamin looked at her. "We had names?" Miriam gave her a withering glare while Ash tried not to laugh.

****

Ash sat on the fence watching as the sun set, dazing more than actually watching. The performance mellowed in his head, but he didn't give it much thought. He thought they did rather well, and would have done better if the audience hadn't acted like scared rabbits and sat poised to flee throughout the entire thing. And the judges shouldn't have reacted so harshly when GipSi sat on their shoulders.

Needless to say, they hadn't _won_ the competition. Yet they hadn't totally lost either. Aside from being disqualified for a "technical" reason, Carmen thought they had been a big success. Ash was mighty suspicious of that grin she wore, as was everyone else. They had practically been tomatoed and thrown out, except no one wanted to peeve the Pokémon. Yet Carmen informed that that there had been an agent of sorts out there, and he was willing to give them a try. Apparently the man knew something about Pokémon and thought their act interesting.

Ash had been slightly apprehensive of this. The only people on this side of the world that were interested in Pokémon were members of Team Rocket. It had been a rather interesting ploy to have GipSi distract him long enough for both him and Pikachu to rummage through his briefcase looking for anything that might denote Team Rocket. Ash found, much to his surprise, papers that said the guy used to be a judge for Indigo.

GipSi hadn't made the ploy last long enough, and Ash had gotten caught in the act big-time. It was only through very quick explaining that he justified his actions, saying that only Team Rocket was into Pokémon here and he wanted to find out if the man was a member.

_The agent, Dr. Jonas, had looked at him very critically. "Really?" he intoned._

_Ash frowned, stepping back. "Yes. I've seen them." And more, he thought bitterly. "Besides, no one deals with Pokémon here."_

_"You do. Your friends do."_

_"I'm not from here, though. And my friends, I have a very interesting influence, I suppose. Two weeks ago their Pokémon wouldn't let them touch them."_

_"Really?" he repeated again._

_"Pi!"_

_"Were you really an Indigo Judge?"_

_Dr. Jonas nodded, sitting behind the desk and indicating Ash do the same. "For about ten years, but I have been promoted to other areas." He gave a wry smile, stating "promoted" wasn't exactly the word to use. "Ever been to the League?"_

_"Yes," Ash said before he could stop himself. "I competed."_

_The agent's eyebrows raised. " You did? When?"_

_Ash kept his face blank. "A few years ago, before I moved out this way. I'm training now. In the spaces between training anyway," he corrected at Dr. Jonas' questioning stare. "We were suckered into stopping to help." Shut up, Ash. You're going to slip._

_"What place did you get?"_

_"Twenties or something. I don't remember. I made a dumb mistake and lost under my last Pokémon." Okay, so he lied a bit. Ash hoped his face didn't show it._

_"How old were you?"_

_"Ten."_

_"Pretty good, then," Dr. Jonas smiled. "So you know of Team Rocket?"_

_Ash and Pikachu both gave him a look. "You could say," Ash said dryly. "I used to have constant run-ins with a pair—Jessie and James. Kept on trying to take my Pikachu."_

_"Pikapi," Pikachu murmured her warning, and Ash bit his tongue._

_"The fact is," Ash continued before Dr. Jonas could speak, as the surprise at the sudden proof that he was telling the truth was written on his face, "I _know_ Team Rocket is active over here. They just don't get enough press. There's a Center in Cornflower, underground base. I know." He spoke in a way that didn't leave room for discussion._

_"And don't doubt you know," Dr. Jonas murmured. "How do you get to the base?"_

_He remembered the kids living down there. "I can't tell you."_

_"Why? Are you a member of Team Rocket?"_

_Ash made a cruel smile. "I suppose you could say I'm wanted for a member. I escaped."_

_"What a coincidence."_

_"PIKA!" He barely had time to gather Pikachu in his arms before she released the shock to the insulting agent. "Pikapi chu pikachu pi!" the mouse spat, cheeks sparkling._

_"Ease up, Pikachu. He probably didn't mean it," Ash said darkly, clearly stating he knew better as he stood. "Dr. Jonas, I don't care if you believe me or not. But it would be exactly like Team Rocket and their Leader to use Trainers with dreams to meet their goals."_

_"I assume you've met the Leader as well?" Dr. Jonas said, a bemused smile on his face._

_Ash took a step back. "As a matter of fact, I did. And you wouldn't believe me if I told you who he was."_

_"And who, pray tell?"_

_"One of _your_ Gym leaders."_

_Dr. Jonas stood up like a Rocket. "You lying little—" Ash had already left._

Ash sighed, banging his heels against the wood. That was a big chance, but it felt . . . good to have told someone, even if the man didn't believe him in the least. Well, he couldn't blame the man. Ash wouldn't have believed it either, but he knew it was true. And so did Miriam and Shamin, but _they'd_ keep their mouths shut. Ash, no, he had too much of a conscience and too little wish to remain breathing.

The only small favor for it was that Dr. Jonas still agreed to work for them, although he especially glared at Ash.

Indigo . . . it had been a long time since he had tried there. Maybe, maybe he should go back. Ash bit his lip in thought. That was a big risk, going back. Team Rocket was ever-more fluent in that land, people knew him from his early travels, his mom . . .

He shook his head, looking back at the sky. Yet he had to go back. It was a League, one he hadn't won. It was a risk, Ash admitted, but he was going to make it a calculated risk.

In the back of his mind, Ash wondered, worried if his friends would be coming along. He knew Miriam liked it here; she liked acting and all that jazz, and here she was on the doorstep to achieving her dream. And Shamin, well, she seemed to prefer a life-style that offered comforts—like living in a house. Ash ran a hand though his hair, thinking. It wasn't like he needed them to travel with him, but he liked the company, a lot. Human contact offered something Pokémon did not. And he liked the girls. They were like sisters . . . or something.

The sun was further down on the horizon, ready to bid him goodnight. Ash slouched in his stance. Tomorrow, tomorrow he would leave, alone or not.

"Good-night," he murmured, slipping down to the ground and into his sleeping bag. Above his head, Noctowl hooted his response.

****

Ash set his pack down and looked around the quiet house. It was early—everyone was either still asleep (this was their first sleep-in day) or being quiet in their lodgings—so he found it no great surprise that no one was around to greet him. Trigger was sleeping on a chair, having chewed some shoe to shreds. Whomever he slept with probably kicked him out.

Ash started up the stairs, wondering about Pikachu. Oh, he was sure she was fine, but Pikachu rarely liked to sleep in. It wasn't her nature, and she'd be bored silly in a closed-up room—and considering some of the sizes of the rooms, he couldn't blame her. (Almost 90% of the rooms here had been transformed into bedrooms of some sort.) Pikachu was too polite to actually wake the person up. Yet to his great surprise, he encountered Pyro coming down the stairs.

"Good morning, Fox," he whispered with a smile.

Pyro looked at him lowly, hardly baring to show his usual I-Hate-You-But-Am-Starting-To-Like-You-So-Don't-Push-It snarl. He merely sat heavily on the step and glared down.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Ash asked, genuinely puzzled. He sat down a step lower—its a little known fact that Ninetales like to be higher than other creatures—and, at great risk of limb, set on hand on the fox's flank. He managed a small grin. "You didn't even bite me."

The Ninetales looked at him in a method that said such a thing could easily be remedied.

"Is Miriam all right? Shamin? Pikachu?" He knew he got one of the names right, for Pyro bristled. Miriam wouldn't have tossed him out, Pyro cared not for Shamin or her words, and he enjoyed the battles between himself and Pikachu, so Ash was at a small loss as to _why_ his friends would cause the haughty fox upset. "What's wrong?"

The eyes narrowed, and Pyro spat fire at him. It was a small burn, one that was of more effect to keep small than to deliver, and Ash ignored it as much as he dared, lest he damage Pyro's pride further.

"Well, if you're not going to tell me, I'm talk to Miriam, and she'll get it out of you. Or even Pikachu." Ash grinned slightly, standing. "If you're up, then that means so is Miriam."

Ash paused. Now that was weird. Miriam up before the crack of noon? Pyro looked at him, watching him piece it together.

"I see," he muttered. "Clever boy."

Pyro had too much pride to actually ask for help, but he knew how to ask for it without asking for it.

****

Ash knocked on the door as Pyro slipped in. "Miriam?" He didn't dare stick his head in, for fear of what he might see.

"What are ya doin' up?" Miriam asked, pulling the door open more.

"I think I should be asking you that!" Ash grinned, slipping in and jumping onto the ever-small bed. It gave a decisive moan, then decided it would break later. "You're the one who's up early."

Miriam frowned at him. "I'll have ya know I _can_ wake up before eight AM. God forbid, I can wake up at six."

"God forbid," Ash repeated laughing, watching as Pyro curled up on the sill and looked at him, a patient gleam in his eye. "So what are you doing up?" he asked, sitting Indian-style with his hands on his knees.

"Packin'," Miriam smiled, pointing towards her packs.

Ash blinked slowly. "So . . . you're not staying?" Part of him had already accepted that she would be staying, and now that she wasn't, it set his mind back a few steps.

She looked at him in surprise. "What?"

"You're not staying?" he repeated. "I thought you'd stay. You did want to be famous. You could get it here."

Miriam looked at him. "So ya're that desperate to get rid of me?" she asked with false remorse, a small smile on her face.

He shook his head, although he knew she was just teasing. "No. I want to get rid of Pyro, not you." Both of the Trainers smiled at the fox's snort.

"Can't image why."

He could have just let it drop. After all, he didn't want Miriam to stay either. "Miriam, don't get me wrong, but why aren't you staying?"

She set her hands on her hips. "I don't want to stay, Blondie."

"I can take care of myself."

"Right, and I'll call to that and raise you twenty." She spoke like to response to a bluff in a poker game.

He blushed at her tone. "I could. I don't need a babysitter and the Devil on my back."

Miriam took seat next to him. "Yes, ya do," she said deadpan.

"You're as bad as my mom," Ash accused. "Except she let me go out alone. So why not?"

Her lips tilted up slightly, as if deciding she had to give him some excuse. "Ya know the problem, Blondie. I'm not exactly part of this little troupe. I'd be intrudin'."

"That never bothered you before." Ash took a deep breath, then forced the words out. "Miriam, I really think you should stay, if only to make sure these guys smarten up about Pokémon."

"Ah, yes, and I'm just the scholar to do that," she said sarcastically, pushing him hard and standing up to pet Pyro lovingly.

"Better you than nothing," Ash countered, then he sighed. "Miriam, really, you're going to give up your dream to baby-sit me?"

Miriam laughed. "My dream?" she chuckled. "Don't be so up with yarself, Blondie. Bein' _famous_ and _singin' and dancin' _are different things." She shook her head and clicked her tongue. "Idealist."

"But you could be famous with this group!"

"Ya do have a lot of faith in this ragtag team," she smiled, then shook her head. "I'd be buttin' in, Blondie."

"They'd welcome it! You're good." He ducked his head under his arms as she swiped a pillow at him. "You are!"

"Ha!"

Ash grew serious, deciding to play another card. "Besides, you know Team Rocket members."

Miriam paused and looked at him. "Excuse me?"

"You really just trust Dr. Jonas?" Ash asked suspiciously.

"Ya picked up a Suspicious *** Trait!" Miriam crowed in obvious delight.

"I'm serious!" Ash snapped.

She quieted. "I know ya are. So ya think he's with TR?"

Ash shook his head. "Doubt it, but then again, I didn't think a Gym Leader'd be the head of the world's biggest crime circuit."

"It's the little surprises that make life worth-while."

He ignored her retort. "Look, you may scoff at what I say about Team Rocket, but its true. And I don't want these guys to fall prey to them."

"How noble," Miriam said sarcastically. "So you leave me behind to baby-sit _this_ group?"

"I'm not asking you to do that, Miriam. I'm asking you if you really want to follow me around like some puppy-dog."

That got Miriam, and she straightened up stiff as a board. Pyro even growled at the insult.

"That hurt," she stated almost approvingly, walking over to a tiny vanity and picking up the brush.

"Do you?"

"If I'm a dog, then I'm the Alpha, the Leader, Blondie."

"I'm sorry." Ash looked at her. "Miriam, why did you even decide to follow me anyway? You said it was to be famous."

She waved the brush at him coyly. "Shamin did, not me."

"Well, why, then?"

"Because I wanted to," she grinned. "The Tunnels were borin', and I knew the guys would think I had somethin' to do with yar disappearance. Best to get out and avoid the Big Guys."

"So you left to save your own hide?" Ash grinned, calling her bluff.

"Maybe," she replied, her smile self-assured, as always. Miriam could win a Poker game on bluff alone, except for the little fact that she liked cheating. Added edge to the game.

Ash sighed, standing up. "Miriam, I just don't want you to do something you'll regret."

She tilted her head, placing her earring in the ear. "And I suppose ya know what that's like," she murmured.

He barely heard her, but he did. "Miriam, I _don't_ need you to watch out for me, and I'll hate myself if I was the one that ruined your dream. Don't laugh! I'm serious. Yeah, I did a lot of dumb things, things I regret, but I can't change that." He shook his head. "Just think about it, okay? I know that might be a little difficult for you, but—"

Pyro bit his ankle before he knew it, and Ash figured he had made one insult too many.

"Cute, Blondie," Miriam smiled, setting in the other earring.

****

Pikachu stuck her head in on Pyro, who was lounging on a window seat and staring outside. She slowly started to creep in, hunched back, then—

"_Don't you even think about it_."

She relaxed and smiled, leaping up next to him. "_I thought you might be losing it,_" she teased.

Pyro turned his head slightly to look at her, eyes narrowed, but didn't comment. His tails twitched. "_Leaving soon._"

"_Yep, we are! Have to get training again!_"

The fox gave a derisive snort. "_If_ that's_ what you call it_."

She sighed, shaking her head. "_What's wrong_?"

He paused for a moment. "_Tell me, Rodent, in your finite_"—Pikachu frowned at him—"_wisdom, do you really think all of us leaving for this training_"—he spat the word out—"_is for the best for all of us?_"

Pikachu tilted her ears quizzically. What was Pyro getting at? Did he think their Trainers should split up? She had never thought of that. Pikachu was still content in the idea that they would travel together . . . well, not _forever_, but well, forever. "_What do you mean_?"

"_I really think Miriam and Shamin are totally cut out for this training, don't you_?" he said sarcastically. His eyes looked at her. "_Maybe it's just me, but I think they'd have a better life if they stayed here. They don't care to Train._"

She doubted it was just him. *** him, why did Pyro have to do this?! Could he just accept things and not change them for the better? Suddenly she paused in the thought. She had never noticed it before, but suddenly Pyro and her Pikapi were a lot alike. Pyro, despite all his complaining, nagging, whining, ego, pride, mischievous nature, and everything, cared about Pokémon, if only because he was one. He always made sure Miriam and Shamin had fun, _not_ only because he was loyal to Miriam, but because he understood that they were trekking in the wilderness as well. They had a right to something just as much as her Pikapi, even more so because they weren't benefiting themselves. She sighed and nodded. "_Yeah, I guess so. Do you think Pikapi . . ._"

"_It doesn't really matter what he thinks. Blondie is an idiot, but . . ._" Pyro paused, then continued, "_ . . . but he's not blind_."

Pikachu didn't actually care to know what he meant, looking at him intently. "_Well, what do you think is going to happen_?"

****

Ash set the phone back down, then looked at Shamin with a broad grin. "Three tickets, cruise-line extreme."

She jumped with excitement. "Oh, cool! First-class and everything?"

He nodded. "Of course! Miriam wouldn't have it any other way, you know."

"Yes, yes, yes!" Shamin gave a small jig, then paused. "You think Miriam'll actually come along?"

He feigned his stupidity. "What do you mean?"

"This is like her dream!" Shamin gushed. "She could be famous, and don't pretend you didn't think it. I can see the lie on your face, Shan!"

Ash smiled. So he wasn't the only one who thought that. "Well, you go talk to her. Maybe you'll stay as well." He bit his tongue the second the words were out.

Shamin's mouth dropped slightly, and then she glared at him, taking the remark to heart. "Maybe I _will_. I'm going to go talk to Miriam anyway."

****

He avoided the eighteen other people the bustled around the place, hiding outside. Him and his big mouth! Just like everyone said, it got him in trouble.

Ash sighed, then looked up at Pikachu in the tree above him. "I am an idiot, you know that, Pikachu."

"Pi," she smiled down, and he frowned at her.

"You weren't supposed to agree with that," he muttered, crossing his arms.

Pikachu chuckled from her perch, sliding down and resting onto his lap. "Pikapi, chu pika Chuka pi Chupi. Chu pika chu pi," she reassured.

"That's not the point, Pikachu," he sighed.

"Chu?" she asked quizzically, tilting an ear. "Pi chu, ka?"

"It's . . ." He looked at her eager face awaiting his explanation, then sighed, petting her ears. "Nothing. Never mind."

She shook her head at him but did not press the matter further, allowing her Pikapi the privacy and space he needed. He had been sitting out her most the morning, avoiding meals, mostly eating a bit of his rations. She had stayed with him.

"There ya are." Ash and Pikachu both jumped as Miriam came riding up on the Ponyta sidesaddle. "Been lookin' for ya."

"Really?"

She slid down from the pony, then recalled it into a Pokéball with a careless attitude. And, just as careless, she tossed it to Ash. "They wanted me to give ya that."

"What?" Ash asked, staring at the Pokéball. "Why?"

"She likes you. Don't question gifts. It's rude."

Ash slid the Pokéball into his belt, hoping this wasn't a gift given without permission. That would be just like Miriam. "Thank you, Ms. Courteous."

She set her hands on her hips. "Blondie, we got to talk."

"About what?"

"I know."

Well, there was a broad statement, full of many possible insults. "Are you staying?" he asked casually, as if uncaring.

Miriam paused, then nodded. "Yeah. Carmen asked me to. Well, actually, Carmen asked me to ask ya to stay, but I told her that ain't gonna be very likely, and P.J. suggested I stay since Pyro was already a hit with that Dr. Jonas. He was goin' on and on about miniature Ninetales bein' rare. I wanted to sic Pyro on him, but it was bad timin', I thought."

"Miniature Ninetales are rare," Ash murmured, saddened at the admission. "What about Shamin?"

"Oh, she's goin' with ya," Miriam grinned. "First time on a cruise-liner, she ain't passin' that up any time soon. I was tempted to stick around for that same reason, ya know."

"Especially with me paying, I suppose. We'll write, of course."

"I want pretty postcards," she drawled, raising her eyebrow at him. "Did ya know she talked to me about the exact same thing ya did?"

"I thought she might," Ash agreed, running a hand through his hair.

"She was a better convincer than ya were, ya know."

"Well, I don't actually want you to go."

Her face softened at the admission, but only for a second. "Shammy doesn't want me to stay here either, but she still did a better job. And now back to the original subject. I think it's time we level with each other."

"'Level'?" Ash repeated dumbly. Miriam smiled, then dug into her pocket. Ash watched as she withdrew a folded and battered up square of a paper, then tossed it at him. He carefully unfolded it and kept an extremely blank look on his face as he read his name on the missing poster, saw the reward circled many times over. "So . . . you knew the whole time?" he got out in a soft whisper.

Pikachu looked up at Miriam as the woman nodded. "Most of the time, anyway," she corrected.

"Big reward," Ash said dryly, folding the paper back up.

"Tell me bout it, _Ash_."

He winced at his name. "You never turned me in?"

Miriam waved a hand. "Don't get all guilt-ridden and gushy with me, Blondie. I went through a *** lot of conscience screamin' to come to that decision, and it wasn't easy. I hated myself for a long time, but hey, what are friends for."

"You still consider me a friend after I _lied_ to you all this time?"

"Blondie, what makes ya think me and Shammy haven't been lyin' to ya?" Her eyebrow raised at his expression. "I don't care that ya lied. Ya had good reason. Heaven knows I wouldn't trust _me_ with a reward that big. I forgive ya."

He smiled. "Thanks."

"But Shammy . . ."

Panic edged into his voice. "You told _her_?"

Miriam shook her head. "Not my place. But she's not goin' to be too happy, I tell ya."

"Why d—?"

"Ya'd better tell her," Miriam continued, ignoring him now. "Shamin can keep her mouth shut if she has to, ya know."

Ash blinked suddenly as Miriam stuck her hand out. "Consider this our parting of ways, eh, Blondie?"

He took her hand, shaking it. "Hopefully not for long."

She gave a small smile. "With my luck, it won't be nearly long enough. Pity now ya decide to actually give us a treat for transportation."

Ash grinned, then sudden choked on a lump in his throat. With a great speed, he jumped up and hugged Miriam tightly, so much that she took a startled step back. "Thanks for everything, Miriam."

She hugged him back. "Ah, Blondie, I told ya not to get all gushy. Now my clothes are all wrinkled! Rodent, ya get off my boot!" she scolded, as Pikachu clutched the position in her own little hug.

"Chuka, pikachu pi ka chupi!"

"Timmy can stay down that well!"

"She didn't say that, Miriam," Ash reprimanded. "And that's getting really old, you know."

Miriam frowned at him, then, like a childish three-year-old, pushed him to the ground. From his perch on the ground, rubbing his sore bottom, Ash could distinctly see Miriam's superior look and heard Pikachu squeal with laughter.

"Maybe this parting won't be long enough," he muttered.


	19. Chapter 18

**Chapter Sixteen:**The Large Frequency of Indigo, the Larger Waves

****

Ash stepped off the boat, feeling the rush of familiar lands course his veins. All right, it wasn't _that_ dramatic, but he knew this landing. He had been here before. All right, so he didn't exactly remember the name of the landing, didn't know the town like the back of his hand, didn't know its exact location to Pallet aside from the fact that it was a few days lost. It was pretty sad that he knew a location by how far lost he was when he originally stumbled across the place.

"Kapi, Pikapi," Pikachu sighed, scurrying up his leg to sit on his shoulder.

"Yeah." Ash turned and put on a smile as Shamin got off the ramp. "Need any help?"

Shamin glared at him coldly, raised her nose a bit higher to ignore him, then walked past rudely, hefting her bag in a wider arc than necessary in the attempt to hit him.

"Chupi pi pika chu pi," Pikachu shrugged, sliding down to retrieve Trigger from a garbage can.

He slumped and jammed his hands into his pockets in defeat. "You can say that again."

Whomever said Honesty's the Best Policy never faced off with Shamin. (Of course, Ash admitted, they were probably thinking about Honesty from the very beginning, not after a year of lies. Then the saying would have been something like Honesty May Be the Best Policy, But Better to Remian Alive and Have a Talking Companion.) He knew Shamin wasn't going to take his soul-baring as well or kindly as Miriam had, but he at least thought she'd talk to him and forgive him within a few moments, maybe an hour tops.

Not one week and counting.

He had waited a few days into the cruise, trying to gather up the courage as well as trying to get the chance. Apparently there were a lot of "available" girls on this boat would did their best to weasel him into helping them do something. He never realized girls were so persistant, and it didn't improve Shamin's mood. She indubitably thought he was enjoying the attentions, but nothing could have been further from the truth. They were giggly and annoying and all they did was talk talk talk. To show how much he really despised it, let's just say that despite the darkness lifeboats weren't all that bad. They were actually pretty spacious.

Maybe Ash had chosen bad in his timing to which to bare his soul, or maybe Shamin was just in a bad mood whenever she found out she'd been made a fool off. Ash kicked a stone away. Whatever it was, Shamin was thoroughly pissed at him, and she was just as stubborn as him, had the temper of Misty, the grating silence of Brock, the endurance of Tracey, the arrogance of Gary, and the punch of Miriam. (Well, not _punch_-punch, but close enough.) He flexed his jaw slightly, remembering.

_Ash peeked into his bunk. "Hey, Pikachu. Do you know where Shamin is?"_

_Pikachu looked up momentairly from Trigger, who was in his own personal version of Hell with the waves and such, which Ash would be privileged to cleaning up later, and nodded. "Chupi pichu," she smiled, pointed up and over towards the aft of the ship. Then her ears tilted slightly. "Chu pi, Pikapi?"_

_He sighed, running a hand through his freshly dyed hair. "I'm going to try. No promise though."_

_She gave him a smile of encouragement and a thumbs up for good luck. "Pi ka!"_

"_Thanks. I'll need it." Ash ducked out the door and started up towards the exit, hands fidgeting nervously in his pockets._

_As he entered the deck, the fresh saltiness of the ocean air hit him, and he took a deep breath, remembering the far more innocent times of riding on Lapras' back throughout a League. Ash bit his lip at a guilty reminder. Back to Indigo . . . he really hadn't thought of what that meant until he got onto the boat. He was going to have to do more than just show up at the Plateau. A lot more. He pushed the thought out of his mind and looked at the skyline._

_It was a Sailor's Sky, with the delicate reds and pinks of the setting sun upon the shimmering reflective water. The Red at night, yes, definitely the Sailor's delight. Ash frowned, wondering exactly why Sailors take warning at red in the morning. It was just as beautiful as its counterpart._

_It was a watercolor sky, a watercolor world, deliate and beautiful and somehow surreal. Ash always loved traveling through mountains and by water when the weather was perfect. The very air was different, and the world took on a much more artistic quality. He liked the fact that he was privy to something other people rarely saw, that was the Pokémon's world, raw and wild and ultimately awe inspiring. Ash had to wonder if other Trainer's felt the same way about it as he did._

_Part of him hoped not. Selfishly, he truly hoped not._

_Ash turned his attention away from the skies and looked around the deck at the milling people, most who didn't wish to go to bed just yet. It only took him a moment to find Shamin leaning delightfully entranced at the waters. He took a deep breath._

"_Okay, Ash, come on now. Miriam took it rather well, and Shamin's a push-over," he coaxed himself under his breath as he started over. "Hey, Shamin."_

_She smiled slightly, baring him a moment's glance over her shoulder, then looked back down at the water. "Hey, Shan."_

_He winced more so than usual, then smiled, jumping up to sit on the railing. This was a definite no-no on the ship, but with no personal around, Ash really didn't care about protocol and rules. Of course, if he did get caught, he was probably going to get keel-halled or whatever punishment it was they gave on ships. Dimly he remembered walking the planks, but decided that was pirates."Whatcha looking at?" _Ash, you're supposed to be baring your soul here_._

"_The water. There's a Pokémon. Been following us for somedays, but seems like it's really shy."_

"_Probably Lapras. Pods follow ships sometimes. Or maybe a Gyarados. They like to nibble on those that fall in." He grinned slyly._

_Shamin turned her head, her lips twisted in a less-than-amused expression. "Well, they'd spit you out then. Nasty, foul thing that you are."_

_That comment hurt, not because she meant it, but because it was suddenly rather true. He rubbed his head nervously and cleared his throat. "Hey, Shamin—"_

"_Pretty, isn't it?" she interrupted, indicating the sky and such._

_He bit his tongue. "Yeah, beautiful," he sighed softly, turning slightly to look out over the water. "I was just thinking that."_

"_Really?" she asked skeptically, disbelief obvious on her voice._

_Ash gave her a soft look. "Really," he repeated truthfully._

"_Beauty is in the eye of the beholder," she sniffed._

"_You just said it was beautiful!" he laughed._

"_I said pretty."_

_He shrugged. "Same difference," he said lightly, running a hand through his long bangs. He probably should have gotten a haircut as well as a dye-job._

"_No it's not. Pretty is just that. Pretty. Beautiful, well, it's just different," she said lamely, unable to explain what she meant._

"_So if I say some one or thing is just 'pretty', what am I actually saying? That they're not 'beautiful'?" Ash asked, perplexed._

"_What are you saying?"_

_He blinked at the tone of her voice, confused. "That's why I'm asking. What's the difference? Between 'pretty' and 'beautiful'? They mean the same thing."_

"_No they don't."_

"_Then what is the difference?" Ash demanded lightly._

_Shamin tutted. "You wouldn't understand."_

"_Obviously." He looked back at the sky. "I still think it's beautiful, though."_

"_Why didn't you say pretty?"_

_Ash looked at her, giving an exasperated smile. "Because . . . because I think it's beautful."_

"_But pretty means the exact same thing," she spoke in superiority. "So why not say you think it's pretty?" She smiled at Ash's shake of his head. "They don't mean the _exact_ same thing."_

"_My mistake," Ash chortled, but he knew she made her point rather well. Leave it to a girl to get picky about choices of words. The sun was just delicately sinking into the waters, slipping an arc in to seemingly test the temperature before fully submerging itself. "Well, it is lovely then."_

_Shamin snorted. "What's with you and the synonyms?"_

"_I'm being an ***." He grinned at her, then took a deep breath. "You know—"_

"_Well, what other words describe the scene then?" she asked sarcastically._

_He could have, _should have_ just continued with baring his soul, but he didn't want to, so he took the bait. "Hmm, fragile, welcoming, watercolor—"_

"_Watercolor?" she snorted._

"_Like a painting," he explained patiently. It probably wasn't actually a definition, but he always saw it that way. "Gentle . . . enchanting . . . peaceful . . . rosy . . . tranquil . . . romantic." He stopped and blushed slightly. His mouth had been going on automatic, with great and growing pauses between each word as he thought of words to describe the view. He shrugged again, looking back at Shamin. "Pretty, beautiful."_

_Shamin was looking at him with a delicate expression on her shadowing face. "That all?" she asked quietly, a hint of a smile peeking through as she ducked her head away from his gaze._

_He smiled slightly. "I can't think of any more at the moment. Sorry."_

"_You really are full of surprises," she murmured._

"_What'd I do this time?"_

_She didn't answer, and Ash tilted his head for a moment before looking at the deck boards from between his knees. "Shan . . .?"_

_Ash winced again. He wasn't very good at this confession thing and he wondered why. His friends had always commented that he was a very honest person, so he should want to set the record straight, but the fact was he really didn't want to get caught in a lie. Which was the inevitable outcome, Ash admitted. "Hmm?" he asked, looking back at her._

"_Why did . . ." She paused, licking her lips, then barged forward, "Why'd you call this," her hand waved at the sky, "'romantic'?"_

_He blushed again. "Well, you know all those movies, riding off into the setting sun and all," he shrugged, then bared a small grin. "Not as popular as eating spaghetti under the full moon and twinkling stars with some fat Italian guy serenading, huh?"_

_She rolled her eyes at him. "With that mental picture, I have to wonder," she drawled sarcastically._

_He chuckled. "It does sound rather weird when you say it like that."_

"_So tell me, this is your idea of romantic?"_

_Ash looked back at the sky, embarrassed, tilting his head. "Don't know, actually."_

_She scoffed, rolling her eyes and looking back at the shimmering water below them, the sun further down the horizon._

_They were silent for several minutes, and Ash tensed, knowing that this was the best moment. His hands clutched the railing, knuckles turning white, and took a deep breath. Perhaps it was too deep, because Shamin looked at him curiously._

"_You all right?"_

"_Fine," he half-lied. "Look, Shamin, I've got to tell you something. It's really important, I should have told you a long time ago," he babbled._

"_What?" she asked carefully, eyebrows furled._

_He avoided looking at her gaze, instead focusing on the importance of his knees and ankles. "We've known each other a bit over a year, you know, and I really, really did want to tell you, it would have been better if I did. But I just never got up the nerve, and now I think you should know, because you should and everything."_

"_What should I know?" she asked, gently touching his arm. Could he be telling her . . . maybe!_

_His hands fiddled in his lap, and he bared her a sheepish grin. "You've become a really good friend to me, you know, so I hope you do understand why I never told you."_

_She smiled brightly. "Didn't want to ruin the friendship, I suppose?"_

_He nodded enthusiastically. "Exactly."_

This sounds familiar_, she thought excitably, remembering when he last spoke those words. "Well, tell me now," she spoke softly, trying to control her breathing and heart._

_Her words gave him confidence, and Ash was sure he could go through it now since she wasn't going to kill him. He leaned down a bit. "You sure you want to hear?"_

"_Of course," she replied, leaning forward in anticipation of what she expected to happen in the sunset on a romantic cruise ship with little water creatures dancing playfully and the stars just starting to twinkle out . . . She gave a small quiver in expectation._

_He spoke bluntly. "My name is Ash."_

_Shamin's eyes flew open, and her head snapped back. "What?"_

"_My name's Ash, Ash Ketchum, not Shan. For the past year I have been lying to you. I ran away from home to continue Training," he continued, inattentive to her horrified face._

"_You . . . you're . . ." Shamin's mind reeled, unable to form sentances or otherwise as she tried to assimilate the knowledge. Here she had been suspecting a baring of hearts and received a confessional?! "You lied to me!?"_

_He looked ashamed but nodded. "Yeah. Sorry."_

_She clenched her fists and teeth, anger raging. "Sorry?! _Sorry?!_ You dare say you're sorry to me like nothing happened! Why you jerk! Here I thought—" She broke off, not wanting to devulge what she was thinking to this cretin, ingrate, ***, idiot! "I can't believe you, Shan! Oh, I mean, Ash!"_

"_Shamin! Calm down," Ash said, trying to grab her wrists, for her hands had been flaring around dangerously as she started ranting._

"_Don't you touch me!" she ordered and pushed him hard. "I hate you!"_

_Ash fell back with a surprised yell, only managing to grab the railing with a hand painfully as he flipped over. Somehow, twisting painfully, he managed to keep his grip and hung on. He hung speechless, then looked up at Shamin. "Give me a hand up, Shamin!"_

"_You dare ask me for help!" she fumed, clearly forgetting about the possible outcomes in her rage. "Don't you ever talk to me again, Sha—Ash! As soon as we dock, I'm calling you in for that reward!"_

_His eyes widened in horror, and Ash struggled to pull himself up with put hands and a painful shoulder. "Shamin, you can't!" he gasped, grabbing her forearm as he stood up on the wrong side of the railing._

"_DON'T TOUCH ME!" she screamed, instinctively throwing out a fist and connecting both painfully and forcefully with his jaw. Ash fell back again, only this time to land in the water over twenty feet below._

_Shamin leaned over the railing. "I hate you and I hope you drown!"_

Ash sighed, remembering with embarassment at having being fished out of the water by the crew. He had almost been thrown in the brig—someone got the brilliant idea that he had been trying to _rape_ Shamin. She had come to his rescue, maybe feeling guilty or something, but that was it. She didn't talk to him, speak with him, or anything. Ash tentatively asked her if she really was going to turn him it and met a stony silence and ice-cold glare. He had only asked her once because of such a reaction.

He bit his lip in thought. Obviously he didn't know Shamin as well as he thought he did.

Of course, he didn't claim to know a lot about her, but obviously what he thought was wrong.

For one thing, was she going to still travel with him? Surely, if he was her friend (and Ash did still consider himself her friend, just not a very honest one), he would know the answer to that. But yet Ash had that nagging, lingering doubt, the one that showed he really didn't know the truth or the answer (they were two separate things nowadays). He didn't know the answer.

He didn't know, and it bothered him, and it set him on edge.

He didn't like the idea of being alone, not that he'd admit it, not that he even _knew_ it.

"Pikapi?"

Ash turned his head and looked at Pikachu, who was waving him on. Trigger was sitting expectantly at Shamin's heel, while she—Ash never knew someone could cross their arms so coldly and actually _look_ like they were against something—reguared him like the lowest form of life. At his wan but hopeful smile, she glared and turned away, and he sighed. Both he and Pikachu shrugged their shoulders in mutual hopelessness.

"Come on, guys. Let's go buy a map."

****

Ash was dimly aware that the concept of Blackmail could be forced upon him—indeed, he would have been a fine one to subject the lesson to, yet he was naïve in the actual workings of it. Of course, this did not mean he didn't know anything about it, and he risked another glance over his shoulder to look at the potential blackmailer.

Shamin was riding on Ponyta, which had yet been subjected to any name other than her species. Ash was unsure if this was because to speak the name Shamin would actually have to talk to him to explain the reasoning, or if it was because she had settled on the name "Ponyta" for Ponyta. Whatever her reason, Ash didn't know, but he had offered the ride in an attempt to make Shamin forgive him. It had backfired. There was nothing worse than having a person who is angry with you and not taking to be sitting avobe your head, forever boring their accusing eyes into you. Your guilt just worsened. It made Ash feel like he was three and his mom was yelling at him for breaking a vase or something.

Silence wasn't Silent; it was a loud, throbbing, nerve-wracking sound that made him jump on occasion. Silence was the the moment before the kill, before the Noctowl swooped on the Ratatta, before the girl strangled him. Of course, Ash wasn't that paranoid, but he had a very active imagination. Silence was also always there. No matter how much Ash tried to ignite a conversation, Shamin managed to not respond. If he asked if she wanted a ice-cream cone, she wouldn't respond. (Of course, she would steal it the second he put his down—hey, she didn't say she wanted one—and glare at him, just daring him to scold her.)

The fact was, though, that the Silent Treatment got very old very fast, and Ash was very much fed-up with it. He couldn't do anything about it, but it annoyed him, and he responded with his own sort of Silent Treatment, mostly done by speaking about Shamin in third-person to Pikachu. It was not a method apporved by Pikachu when she was riding on Ponyta, for her Pikapi always managed to make her sounding like she was agreeing with him. Which she wasn't . . . most of the time. And then Shamin would get mad at her.

Humans were very stubborn creatures, Pikachu decided, or at least these two Humans. If Miriam was here, or even Pyro, these two would have spoken about the problems, even if it took extreme torture. Pikachu sighed, wishing this problem could be settled. It was a like a leaky dam. It started small, but soon it would give way and there would be disasterious consequences and many causualities.

She could be one of them.

****

The group met probably one of the most dangerous things in the world. The choice made could decide everything.

Life or Death.

World Peace or World War.

Eternal peace and happiness or Hell on Earth.

In all frankness, they came to a fork in the road.

Ash thought they should go left.

Shamin thought they should go right.

(Trigger thought they should go roll in whatever that was over there.)

Even still, as she held her ear down to block out the noise, Pikachu thought they had also made a truce of some sorts. The two humans were at least speak . . . er, communicating with each other, provided communicating consisted of screaming at the top of their lungs who was right. (Whomever was left standing, hearing, optional, was obviously the right one.) The tiny mouse looked up hopelessly at the two who, under normal circumstances, at least made a small point not to be so loud.

"Look, we go left!"

Shamin glared. "NO! The map says right! We go right!"

"It's a bloody short-cut, ***-it!"

"Short-cuts are long ways!"

"In the world of _fiction_!" Ash yelled, red-faced. "This is real-life! We're going to cut at least three days off if we go my way!"

"Screw your way!"

"Screw you!"

"You wish!"

His face turned purple. "Give me the *** map!"

Shamin hefted it out of his grasp, trying to block Ash as he leaned over. "You can't even read them! I'm not ending up like _Babes in the Woods!_"

"You're not gonna end up like some pig! Give me the map!"

"No! And that's not the 'Babes' I meant!"

"I don't know any other Babe, and you certainly aren't talking about you! Gimme!"

Shamin's mouth dropped. "You _pig!_" There was a moment of unarticulated mutterings and yankings, and finally she sputtered, "Miriam would know what I'm talking about!"

"Well, thank _God_ I'm not Miriam!"

There was a flaring of arms, and the map, torn between who it should side with, decided to be pair and sided with both, tearing down the center. Both Ash and Shamin fell back a few steps, then looked at the half of the map each held in their hands vaguely, then at each other.

"You _broke _the map!"

"You bloody idiot!"

"You're gonna get us killed!"

"Gimme that half!" Ash rushed towards her, but Shamin, always more lithe and quicker, ducked away.

"Are you nuts! I can't trust you with reading a map, let alone keeping one together!"

Pikachu watched helplessly as the two ran about. "Pika!" she wailed plaintively. "Chupi, Pikapi, cha chu pi! Pi!"

Both ignored her, rushing around until they ended up towering over the mouse, their worn walking shoes coming dangerously close to mushing her tail. Pikachu's eyes widened, and she did her best to avoid the suddenly very careless, but deadly feet that were intent on crushing her skull in, all the while listening to the tirade that flew above her head, whose vulgarity was growing exponentially.

In the end, Pikachu didn't know why she did it, but both feet had come a hair from her tail, her precious tail, and suddenly the last nerve shot. "PiiKACHUUUUU!" she wailed, bringing her ears down and squeezing her eyes shut, releasing a wild thundershock. It wasn't until almost ten seconds after the electricity in the air had died down that Pikachu peeked open an eye, only to grow exceptionally pale at her sight.

"_Ohhhhh, I think you killed them,_" Ponyta whispered in awe, grass dropping from her open mouth, slipping over on tip-hooves.

"_No I didn't!_" Pikachu squealed in a panic, and strained her ears to hear the slight breathing as she hopped around them, trying to nudge them into consciousness. "_Pikapi! Chupi! Wake up!_" she wailed, twisting her ears.

Ponyta took a step back. "_Are you sure you want them to wake up?_" she asked, curiously. "_You're gonna be in trouble!_"

The mouse bit her paws nervously. "_Oh, oh, oh!_" Suddenly her eyes went wide, and she dashed past the bodies, signing wildly. "_TRIGGER! Stop rolling in that!_"

Ponyta stood awkwardly for a moment, tossing her head to look between the unconscious Trainers and the rapidly shrinking Pikachu and Trigger on the road. Finally, she neighed and threw her head back, flames dancing, and trotted back over to the grass to eat peacefully in the blissful silence.

Save for Pikachu's ardent and fading cries of "_NOOOOOO!_" of course.

*****

****

As first impressions went, Shamin's first impression of Indigo was similar to one's first impression of being mugged and beaten¾something no one wishes to repeat. In fact, to her mind, she _had _been mugged and most certainly had been beaten. Thanks to poor weather, a continuing run-in and dodging of Team Rocket, not necessarily Tess and Ben, they had arrived to the Plateau amidst a throng of people—tourists, spectators, and last minute arriving Trainers who should ***-Hell know better than to arrive at the last minute, Ash!

There were people everywhere, and they were rude. Shamin actually resorted to having a Death-Grip on Ash's hand as he navigated through the crowds, clutching her bag protectively, (hey, she _knew_ what pickpockets looked for,) and snapping rude retorts at every nudge, push, and other pain that was sent her way. And unfortunately they were heading to the Pokémon Center, which was the center of everyone's pilgrimage, the Mecca, if you will.

It was hardly worth the effort, Shamin thought, once they entered the building. The lines went on forever, crisscrossing and conjoining, and everywhere people were arguing about who was first and I was here, the back of the line's that way, pal. It was hot and sticky, the air conditioning unable to keep up with the body heat (and smell) brought on by so many people. Pressed up against the wall, breathing what was most likely warm Carbon Monoxide and Dioxide than actual Oxygen, Shamin felt her nerves twinge. Pokémon Centers, at least the ones she had been inside, were rather spacious. This was cramp and small and she couldn't move her arms!

"How long do we have to stay in here!" she demanded in a mixture of a whine and hysteria. Ash only picked up the whine and looked at her sourly.

"Do not start with me, Shamin," he growled. "In case you didn't notice, this place is packed. We'll be in here several hours."

"'We'll'?" Shamin repeated sarcastically.

"Well, if you don't want a room and would like to sleep outside, you can leave. But if you do want one, you're suffering with me."

Shamin stuck her tongue out at the back of his head but made no indication of moving. She was going to get a room with air conditioning if she had to stand here all night. Huffing and crossing her arms, Shamin let her ears do some walking as she eavesdropped. Well, not eavesdropped. That implied listening at keyholes or from corners.

"So who do you think's going to win this year?"

"Oh, Todd Reginald, most definitely. He won last year."

"I think JoDee. She's quite good, I've heard."

"Mummy, I wanna see the Pokémon!"

"Move it!"

"Excuse me, I couldn't help but overhear . . . you're both wrong. John Longstran will win."

"No one asked you, Sir!"

"Ash?"

"What?" He sounded exasperated.

"Who's Todd Reginald?"

Ash shrugged. "Don't know. Why?"

"How about JoDee?"

"The singer?"

"John Longstran?"

"Are you making these names up?"

Shamin growled and muttered an obscenity under her breath. "I hope you lose."

"What did you say?"

She grinned innocently. "_Nothing_."

****

They were in line precisely 5 hours, 13 minutes, and 7 seconds, give or take three days as far as Shamin was concerned. This had been after losing their spot to some elderly (do not believe appearances) gentleman, fought with some mother about something her children had claimed, and were basically butted in front of when they dozed off. As one they collapsed on the counter.

"Hello! Welcome to the Indigo Plateau Pokémon Center!"

Shamin raised her head to glare at the entirely too chipper Nurse Joy behind the counter. "Yeah! Thanks."

"So how may I help you? Please hurry. There are others in line behind you." The smile was either serious, or surgically implanted. Shamin couldn't tell, and she looked over her shoulder.

"We're the last ones here."

"Hmm."

Ash raised a weary head. "Is it possible for me to register for the League?"

Joy gave him a light, teasing voice as she dug for the proper papers. "Cutting it close, aren't you?"

Ash took the papers away. "Yeah. May I have a pen?"

"Are you going to register too?"

Shamin growled quietly as Ash started to fill the forms. "No. What I'd like is a room¾"

"Two rooms," Ash interjected, not even looking up.

"_Two_ rooms where we could lodge? Please."

Nurse Joy's fingers flew over the keyboard. "Oh, dear, I'm so sorry!"

Ash raised his head. "What?" His voice was deadpan. He knew he wasn't going to like this at all.

"I'm afraid we don't have any rooms left for rent. I'm sorry."

Shamin snapped her head towards Ash. "She says they have _no_ rooms left_."_

"I _heard_," Ash snapped back. "Do you know of any place where we could find rooms, Nurse Joy?"

Nurse Joy gave them a soft look. "How about I look though the directory while you fill out the forms? And if I find one, I'll inform you."

"Could you just sign us up for the rooms?" Shamin pleaded. "We've been walking all day."

"I will do my best."

Shamin watched as the pink-haired woman left to the other consoles and started to search, then looked over Ash's shoulder at his forms. "Hey, that's not your name, you know?" Her finger tapped the blank that Ash had filled with "Shan".

Ash glared at her. "I don't have to use them my real name. It says use whatever name you feel comfortable being recorded under."

"Lucky _you_."

"Bug off."

"Pfft. '**Mother**¾H. Deliah K-_squiggle_' and '**Father**¾L. Jordan K-_squiggle_'. Nice. Like no one'll notice _that_."

"Shut _up_, Shamin," Ash growled, ignoring her laughter. He was trying to be as honest as possible.

"Hmm . . . 'N/A . . . N/A . . . N/A . . .'?"

"It's none of their business what leagues I've gone to, nor the number of Pokémon I have, nor my starting."

"You're going to get disqualified," she sang.

"You wish."


	20. Chapter 19

**Chapter Seventeen:**Fly Away

****

Shamin gritted her teeth, muttering every curse under her breath as small landslides of rocks hit around her, the chilly cold air bit her cheeks, muscles ached from the strain, and her sweat-damp hair clung to her face. "Ain't I almost at the frickin' top?" she swore vehemently to herself, taking a chance to push back her bangs with a scraped up hand, blood on the knuckles. She could really, _really_ learn to _hate_ rock-climbing!

"Chupi," Pikachu sighed in understanding, coming down a bit to climb next to her friend.

"Remind me to kill him, all right?"

"Pika pikachu chu," Pikachu countered.

"I don't _care_ if it was my idea to climb the mountain. I'm gonna _kill_ him!" Shamin cast her eyes upward to look at the lip of the cliff, where Ash was belaying her, but refused to look down to see how high she was as she removed one of the carabiners that protected her from a fall. Why oh why was she climbing a mountain when she was afraid of heights? She gripped the belay rope to make sure it was still attached, and hoped her carabiner was still locked as she slipped on the other. Hey, just because it was five minutes ago didn't mean it still was. "He knows I hate climbing alone. Why couldn't I just fly up?"

Pikachu nodded, then looked down the rock face. This height gave her no great comfort, and the mouse was exceedingly thankful that there were many deep ledges she could climb on. It was a long way down, even now. Even her mini harness—Shamin made her wear it—didn't reassure her.

"You think we'd at least halt a bit for a rest, ya know," Shamin continued, talking more to herself than to Pikachu. Reviewing all the reasons she had to kill Ash when she finished gave her that extra boost to keep going.

"Am I almost done?"

"Almost!" Ash called back down, a tiny speck. "I'm sure you can see the edge now!"

Shamin snorted. "Well, I could see the edge from on the ground, and that didn't say I was close to the top."

"Pi," Pikachu agreed.

****

In fact, by the time both Shamin and Pikachu did manage to pull themselves over the lip (actually, Shamin pulled them both over, for Pikachu had fallen asleep in her pack some time ago) it was almost dusk, a time Shamin really didn't want climb during. They had no choice but to continue the climb until they were finished, for the mountain-face gave no rest points for the idiot climber.

Ash extended a hand down to pull her up. He had been up for most of the day, as Shamin was a very slow climber, and camp was already messily set up, at least his half. "Finally. Jeez, couldn't go any slower, could you? My hands were getting tired from holding that rope. I was tempted to just pull you up!"

"Well, sorry," she gasped, taking the hand and sliding on the snow as he dragged her away from the ledge. "I could have fallen or freaked or _something_! I'm not a fearless idiot like you!"

A look of amusement crossed Ash's face. "Yeah, just a idiot."

"Yes, wait no," she disagreed, feeling off-balanced as she stood up, but she did not continue into the area. "What'd you attempt to cook?" she asked as she brushed off the snow and slowly undoing the rope and latches of her harness. (There had to be a more comfortable one!)

Ash looked up from cleaning the rope. "Umm . . . my pack doesn't have any food it in. That's why I've been waiting for you to get up here, besides the fact that you would have freaked if the rope had any slack in it."

Shamin looked at him from under her damp bangs, then slung off her pack. Pikachu blinked blearily at her. "Pika?"

"Hungry? Oh, I see not," Shamin said in a hard voice as Pikachu leaped out of the bag on onto Ash's shoulder, a trail of empty wrappers coming out with her. "You could have asked if I wanted one."

Ash laughed as Pikachu gave an apologetic look to her. It was remarkable, Shamin thought, at how similar both Ash and Pikachu looked in facial expressions. Kinda cute, at times. Not now though.

"What's left?" Ash asked.

"Mystery packets," she sighed, slamming the packet back into her bag and stomping her foot. The snow crunched under her boot. "Sure, eat all the good stuff, Rodent, and leave us with the chance of Death."

"We'll stop at a store morrow, and _buy_ some more. It wasn't like we weren't going to do that anyway," he said nonchalantly, going over to the fire and resting on his bag. He watched only slightly interested as Shamin kicked out her bag and laid down on it, looking up at the stars. "Then we can head to the next League. I think Luam said it was something with Cat and Dog Poké—"

"Who cares?" Shamin demanded hotly, still peeved at the lack of food and climbing.

Ash blinked at her. "I care. I mean, to be a Master I'm going to have to go to all these Leagues and see what I can learn."

She turned her head to look at him, at his brutally honest face. Her resolve melted. "Sorry. I guess I'm just tired."

He nodded in understanding, lying down as well. "We'll get an early start tomorrow," he said, curling up into the sleeping bag.

"How early is 'early'?" Shamin sighed, turning on her side to look at him. Ash smiled, petting Pikachu's head, and did not answer the question.

"Good night, Shamin."

"Good night."

***

"Shamin," Ash whispered, touching her shoulder gently. She moaned slightly. "Come on, wake up."

"No."

He smiled. "Yes."

"No."

"Come on, Shamin."

"I just fell asleep."

Ash stood up, shaking his head. "Come on, Shamin. Get up. We've got to get going."

Shamin pried her eyes apart and pushed herself up. Then she blinked again. "The sun's not even up!" she complained, jumping up.

He smiled at her, shoving his bag in his pack. "I said we'd be leaving early." Pikachu looked at Shamin hopelessly, also suffering from sleep deprivation.

She glared at him, then, with less neatness than Ash, packed her own bag. "What's with you, dammit?"

He turned to look at her. "Pardon?"

Turning on her heel, Shamin faced him savagely. "It's rush, rush rush! We can't even have any fun and sightsee!" Pikachu nodded her agreement, lying down to fall back asleep. If the two fought, she figured, it could mean an extra ten . . . minutes . . . of . . . sleep . . . Night, night . . .

"Hey, we climbed this mountain!" Ash countered. "That was fun!"

She threw her hands up. "We only climbed it because I said that it was impossible. You took it as a bloody challenge!"

"Well it wasn't impossible!"

"That's not the point!" she screamed, her breath in clouds, advancing on him to poke him in the chest. "You're gonna end up burned out if you keep this up!"

"What are you talking about!" he yelled back. Pikachu brought her ears down to muffle the sound.

"Look at you! You've gone through the Ratwa, Ossature, Pooka, Indigo, and Avian Leagues in what is probably record time!" She wasn't quite sure, but Shamin could assume that it was. "I mean, you're fifteen! Have some fun!"

"Battling is fun!"

She shook her head. "Not when you do it," she said lowly. "I've watched you battle. At first it looked like you did it for fun, but now it's like an obsession! Like you're getting a high off it!"

He scoffed, turning away from her. "Come on!"

Shamin gripped his shoulder and wretched him around to face her. "You think I'm making this up? Dammit, Ash! Ever since you started going to these Leagues, you don't notice anything!"

"I do too!"

Her hands on her hips, Shamin smiled cruelly. "Do you? Prove it. What color were the birds in the Avian gardens?"

Ash opened his mouth, then closed it when he realized he didn't know the answer. "What does that matter?"

Shamin's eyes lit up dangerously. "All right. How about that poor Tibuma's? What was wrong with it?"

"How should I remember?"

"Last time you wrote to your mum or Miriam?"

"Umm—recently," he half-lied.

"When we were at Indigo, Pikachu—" The mouse's ears twitched in her sleep at the sound of her name, but she didn't wake.

"This doesn't prove anything!" Ash yelled, knowing he couldn't answer any of the meticulous questions.

"Yes it does! You don't care about Pokémon anymore! All that matters is winning!"

"I care about my Pokémon!"

"But what about the others? The wild ones! You don't even see them anymore. You only care about yours because you need them to win!"

Ash's face flushed. "Take that back!"

"Make me! You can't change the truth no matter what!"

"It's not true!"

"Dammit, yes it is! You don't see anything anymore. You live only for the next Battle."

That's _not_—" He was cut off by Shamin's hand across his face, leaving a red hand-shaped mark on his cheek in its wake. He raised his own hand without even thinking and looked at her defiant face.

"You didn't see that coming," she said quietly, massaging her stinging hand. "You don't see anything anymore. Not the beauty of Life, Pokémon, friends, Nature. Nothing. You're frinking blind."

He narrowed his eyes at her and did not lower his hand.

Her eyes looked fearful for a moment, but she continued bravely. "Go on. I _dare_ you. Start another battle to win. It's all that matters to you." She felt something on her neck and briefly turned to see the first rays of the sunrise.

"Look at that, Ash. Can you see the Beauty of it, or is it just a clock that you have to beat, to get as far as you can before the sun sets? The ultimate battle, the one you _can't_ win?" She looked back at him, eyes just daring him to contradict.

Ash's eyes softened by degrees, and he brought his hand down ever-so slowly. He stepped forward slowly, past Shamin, to stand nearer to the lip of the ledge and watch the sun slowly paint the sky.

"Can you see it?" Shamin asked mockingly. "Or are you already too burned out that even the sun's heat can't touch you? Fifteen years old . . . and not even a kid anymore. You lost your childhood already."

He jumped unnoticeably at her words, the terrible déjà vu feeling they brought with them, the terrible weight upon his mind.

Shamin's words fell on deaf ears, and Ash watched the sunrise like it was the first time he had ever seen one, like he was the only one in the world who could see it. The sun seemed to turn the mountains—they went on forever—to gold, the snow reflecting on the sun. A tiny river flowing through the valley was shimmering silver, and the sky slowly changed from dark purple-blue to the pinky-orange, yellowy-gold, bluely-green, indigo-blue watercolor painting. Stars that were blinking slowly disappeared into the light.

"Are you even listening to—" She wrenched him around to face her, then blinked in surprise when she saw the tears. "Are you all right?"

He nodded after a moment, looking back at the sunrise, uncaring as the tears themselves froze on his face. "Thank you," he whispered.

She blinked, but then nodded. "You're welcome," she smiled, leaning up against him. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

"Yes."

They were quiet for a moment. "So now what are we going to do?"

"I was thinking about going to that League . . ." He trailed off.

"Yeah?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Ya know, I think there's a real nice park a few miles—a few days' travel, if I lead—from here?"

"Really?"

"Yep, that way." He pointed towards the sun in front of them.

"Which way's the League?"

"That way." He pointed behind them.

Shamin smiled. "Cool."

He turned his head and smiled at her as well. "Hey, those Leagues been around for years. What's another few days or weeks or whatever?"

"A drop in the bucket." Shamin grinned. "We'll get there though."

At that Ash nodded with certainty. "Yes. But not now. Sooner or later, though, but not too late."

"You're never too late if you keep at it."

Again he nodded. "Right."

Shamin smiled and slowly walked back to the camp. Pikachu was sleeping—lucky Rodent—and Shamin smiled at her. Then she scooped something in her hands. "Hey, Ash?"

"Yeah?"

"If you ever get obsessed, can I slap you again?"

He grinned, stepped backwards a few steps, taking one last look at the scene, then turned to face her. "You just make sure I—" He stopped when something hit him square in the face. When he wiped the snow from his face, Shamin was demurely sticking out her tongue, rolling another snowball in her hands.

"You know," she started, bringing back her arm. "There are some battle you can't win. A snowball fight against me is one of them."

He grinned, crouching down to get his own ammunition. "Wanna bet?"

She laughed, tossing the snowball, which he dodged easily.

"Missed me!" he laughed, running over to throw his own snow creations. Shamin, with all her grace, dodged them all and somehow managed to get behind up to push him in the snow.

"Face wash!" she yelled.

Ash rolled over laughing in the snow and threw a ball up without aiming. It landed on Pikachu, who sat up with a start.

"Pika!" she yelled as she escaped the sudden coldness, cheeks emitting bolts in annoyance. Then she looked over at Ash and Shamin, who were laughing at her. "Pikachu!"

"Come on, Pikachu!" Shamin laughed, pelting Ash with snowballs as he tried to do the same to her. "Help me get him."

"You really think she's going to join your side?" Ash asked with a grin. "Pikachu is my Poké—Hey! Hey! Traitor!"

Pikachu laughed, dodging his snowball and throwing her small ones.

"No fair!" Ash whined, covering his head for protection as they threw their rapid shots. "Two against one! No fair! No fair!"

"All's fair in Love and Snowball Wars!" Shamin quoted mischievously.

"Pikachu!"

"_Cowards_! Girls cheat!" Ash accused, jumping up and running away. "Cheaters!"

Both Shamin and Pikachu just laughed, continuing their attacks. And they say cheaters never prosper.


	21. Chapter 20

**Chapter Eighteen:**Ghosts

The transition from dream to wake was subtle, but, in a strange way, abrupt. The audience could easily feel that their minds were slipping from the images, but the initial shock from the change caused their hearts to speed up in any case.

It was dim outside the windows, meaning that they had sat for all of the afternoon. Each in his or her own right tried to recap all of the images that they had just seen, but it was impossible to remember. It was like they knew it happened and if someone told them what had, they'd say, "Yeah, that's right!" but it was impossible for them to simply come out and say what they saw without a prompt from another person.

Gary spoke first. "That can't be it," he said bitingly.

"It's not." The reply was muffled and quiet.

Mrs. Ketchum was the first to react, her motherly concern taking over. "Are you all right, Pumpkin?" she asked rushing to his side.

Ash was hanging his head between his knees, holding his forehead and temples in his hands and taking deep breaths. He looked up briefly to give her a reassuring smile, then returned to his position. "I'm fine, just . . . tired. It's hard to connect to a GipSi for a great deal of time. They're so hyperactive, and can't stay focused. Especially this one."

GipSi's cheeks puffed out in indignation. "See!"

"Explains the blurry picture," Gary muttered, although he truly wasn't in the comment.

The blond trainer sat up slowly, stretching. "Time for breakfast, I suppose?"

Misty blinked. "Breakfast?"

"It's morning," Ash pointed out.

They all looked at each other, surprised. All of them had been up all night, and none were not remotely tired.

"The trance is like a half sleep-half awake thing," Ash said, reading their minds as he stood. GipSi leaped onto his shoulder and up into his hair, curling into a ball as if to sleep. "Your heart-rate and breathing slows down like when you're asleep, and your mind sort of just hangs and absorbs the images."

"Interesting," Tracey commented as he jotted down some notes.

"So we've been up all night?" Gary asked. Ash thought about it, then nodded.

"In a sense, yes, I suppose." He paused. "Is your Umbreon all right?"

Everyone looked at Gary's Umbreon, who was shaking his head wildly.

"What's wrong, Umbreon?" Gary asked, suddenly doting over the Pokémon.

"Bree!" he snapped, blinking his eyes rapidly as if to clear his vision.

"Pikachu pika pikachu pi ka kapi," Pikachu said suddenly looking out the window in a worried manner while both Brock and Tracey went over to help Gary. "Pikachu!" she lamented.

"Impossible," Ash said dismissive, worry etched onto his face as he studied the Umbreon.

"What is?" Gary demanded.

Suddenly Umbreon's effects cleared, and he looked at his Trainer to say that he was all right.

"Maybe GipSi's psychic powers meddled with Umbreon," Tracey tried, seeing that the squirrel was watching them, eyes glowing.

Ash raised his eyes. "GipSi!" he scolded.

"See gippy gip see!" she squeaked back hotly and rapidly, tail twitching wildly. "See gi giip! See gippy gipipipee!" By that time she had scurried down nose-to-nose with Ash, glaring at him upside-down.

"What'd she say?" Misty asked.

"Do I look like I understand GipSi-nese?" Ash snapped, clearly agitated over the scolding. "Damn, they speak so rapidly." Even still, his lips were moving as he tried to understand. "Normally she speaks telepathically with me . . ."

"Chupikachu," Pikachu said, rushing over and starting to converse with the squirrel. After they finished, she looked solemnly at Ash. "Pikachu pika."

"Over-active imagination," Ash said slowly. "Is he okay, Gary?"

"Looks that way," Gary said slowly, running his hands over the sleek body. "What did your bloody rodent do to him?"

"Panicked," Ash said carefully. "I'm sorry. GipSi doesn't get along well with other psychic type?" It sounded like a question, like Ash was grasping at straws to find a plausible excuse. "I think _you_ should go back outside," he said quickly, nodding his head to toss the GipSi lightly back into his hair.

She giggled inanely. "See, gippy gip."

"Why are her eyes still glowing?" Tracey asked.

Ash pretended not to hear as he grabbed his pack and dashed out the door, Pikachu at his heels. "We're going to eat at the café, Mom," he said by way of departing.

"All . . . right," she said, watching him leave with a worried expression on her face.

"Bree um," the Umbreon murmured, shaking his head again.

Misty frowned. "Mrs. Ketchum, would you mind—"

"Please do, Misty," Mrs. Ketchum said softly. "I'm sure he's fine, though."

"I'll come with you," Gary said, still wondering about his Umbreon. Nothing hurt his Pokémon and stayed unknown to him. He'd rip—painfully, if necessary—the information from Ash to find out. "Do you think you're up to coming, Umbreon?"

"Let him stay here," Mrs. Ketchum smiled. "I've got some of Brock's food pellets in the cupboard."

Seeing the Pokémon's eyes light up, Gary smiled. "Thanks."

"Come on, then," Misty said, heading towards the door. Gary was right behind her, and, with a nodded, Tracey and Brock followed.

****

Ash sighed, bent over the workbook and scratching a pencil over the papers. Figures danced down in columns, a final sum circled at the bottom. Pikachu watched him in approval, munching on some ketchup/syrup covered pancakes. "Ka?"

He gave her a smile, then sipped his apple juice. "I can't really decide which is harder. This or Pokémon Training?" He chuckled, starting on the next page. "I shouldn't have let this slip so far behind. I'm never going to get back on schedule."

"Chu pikachu ka pikachu chu," she grinned.

"I thought you were supposed to make sure that it didn't happen."

Pikachu shrugged, then looked around the café. "Pikachu pika pikachu kachu pika?"

"It doesn't really matter, does it?" he said lightly. "It doesn't. That part of my life is over."

"Chu," she disagreed. He made no comment, sighing. Pikachu shook her head, touching his arm gently. "Chupi pikachu pika, Pikapi." Ash shrugged, returning his focus to his workbook.

"So you say," he murmured.

He worked in quiet for a while, before Pikachu got his attention again, pointing to the familiar troupe girls. Ash sighed, quickly slipping the book into his bag and getting up to leave. They were really getting to be annoying, almost as bad as the damned reporters when he first came back. They had the nasty ability to knock on a door and have him open it looking like crap, camera ready. Even now a few reporters tried to get "the exclusive", but not got much further than his name. Ash could be very rude and _very _deaf.

For some reason, reporters seemed to think that having an alias and then the world suddenly finding out what your real name really is deserved front-page news. Ash disagreed, especially when it dealt with him. It was his life, and he didn't need some tabloid reporter telling the world it. Damn, that'd have been a great way for him mom to find out. Yet, of course, there were the articles that were printed that had maybe a grain of salt—if they were lucky—of truth in them. But Ash was _pretty __**sure**_ he hadn't spent the night with any of those girls, just as much as he was sure he wasn't in Riverdrop when he—well, not _really_ him, as he was in Ziganka—got drunk and arrested. Ash knew his mom wanted to believe him over the papers, but it was hard on her. Almost everyone else believed them, and he had gotten a few stares when he did venture out, as well as a few tag-along reporters, which gave Ash no end of trouble. He valued his privacy a lot, as one sneaky tabloid reporter found out. Ash still thought that was poetic justice, sending a \l "Zealots" on the sneak. The little guy was probably _still_ following the reporter, clutching the Psyduck-imprinted boxers to his chest and the look of absolute adoration on his so-ugly-it's-cute fuzzy face.

Of course, _eventually_ the Zealots would return to Ash, always true to the first thing that caught his interest (and the fact that Ash _was_ his Trainer), but that would be a long time in coming. Until then, the Zealots would make life absolutely miserable for the reporter. Ash personally knew the little guy had it in him.

Don't get Ash wrong, he had been the cover of a-many articles and magazines. It was obligation or something, he supposed, but he had been on nowhere near the numbers he should have been. The only reason he was on those was that over his travels he had befriended people that did become reporters. Todd instantly came to mind, with his camera and smile. Todd had actually knocked on the door—he didn't even have his camera up to take the picture when the door opened!—and asked Mrs. Ketchum very politely if he could talk to Ash. It turned out that his editor had found out that he had known Ash as a child and shoved the assignment on him, which caused a bit of friction between the two, for the photographer was scheduled to go to a _tropical island_ with his **ahem** _girlfriend _for his_ vacation_. The editor claimed he had no choice, for Todd Snap photographic abilities were the best, and they needed someone good to "get the scoop". Ash remembered frowning at the term. Todd then asked very plainly if he could merely follow Ash around for the day, get the task done, and get lost. He said was in too much stress, valued his legs, and didn't want to be chased by Pokémon to risk trailing Ash. The proposal intrigued Ash, for Todd was the first to actually _ask_ for permission. Todd had been shocked at his peals of laughter, taking it as a no. Ash then said he'd be honored if he followed him around all day, as long as Ash never saw him. He wouldn't try to lose him, he wouldn't sic any Pokémon on him, he wouldn't kill him. Todd just had to stay out of sight, and, if Ash ever saw him, he couldn't take pictures for a full ten minutes.

The proposal interested Todd, and he asked why. Ash merely shrugged and said because Todd had decent manners.

The next day, Ash had been almost relaxed going about his day. (Todd said he _had_ to go outside and do _something_, not just watch TV.) He knew Todd was somewhere, but he didn't know where, and it made it sort of a challenge to find him. It was like an "adult" game of hide-and-seek. Todd was good, although he did make a few slip-ups. He managed to fall out of the tree and almost landed painfully to the ground, but Ash's Gligar caught him and both laughed while Todd hung upside-down. (Ash had borrowed the camera to take a picture.) Of course, Ash didn't always speak when he saw Todd, mostly because he wasn't sure if he actually saw the photographer. Of course, when he saw the magazine, he knew that actually he had. It turned out most of the magazine was Todd's work—A Photographic Essay of Ash "Shan" Ketchum—and the story related the photos, with Todd's humor touching the words. In fact, Todd had even dug out pictures he had taken of Ash when they were kids. The last photo, though, touched Ash, showing the two of them together as friends with Todd signing a thank you.

He slipped out of the restaurant and started to walk at a fast pace down the street, slipping between alleys. Pallet wasn't that big, but it was possible to lose someone in it. Barely, but it _was_ possible. And Ash had perfected slipping away from prying eyes over these past months.

"Pika?" Pikachu chirped at his feet, smiling and pointing to the cafe where their old friends were performing. Light music could be heard wafting through the air towards them. She looked up at him, eyes hopeful.

Ash chuckled. "Hey, you can go off. I'm not gonna stop you, you know."

"Chu chi pi, Pikapi," she stated, pulling at his pants leg. "_Piiiii!_"

A look of indecision crossed his face, the refusal on his lips, but Ash felt himself melting under her big Pikachu eyes. It was one of her secret, not-by-the-book attacks, and Ash loved her for it, except when she made him do something he really didn't want to do, of course. He sighed to the sky. "Fine. Whatever you want, Princess," he said and gave a phony bow.

"PI!" she said importantly.

"I'm not going any lower," he grinned, looking out into the street for trouble before crossing. Once inside the cafe, he quickly melted into the shadows while Pikachu scampered closer to the stage.

Carmen was up on the stage, playing a guitar while Sunflora, Bellosom, and Bellsprout weaved around. He briefly wondered when Carmen fell into a plant-Pokémon, who had more working for in in the Water department. True, she was no Marzena, but Carmen always seemed to mesh with Water. Daisy had been in plant. Of course, this was only in his obviously worthless opinion. Ash smiled. Her wardrobe had changed little, he supposed. She wasn't punk looking anymore, but she still dressed to the right . . . diagonal. Briefly he wondered what her real hair color was, but tossed it aside. It would have been like wondering but Pyro's age actually was.

"Hey, there." Ash jumped slightly, then smiled at the familiar strawberry blond.

"Daisy. Still silent as ever."

She crinkled her nose, taking off her hat and nodding towards the stage. "What do you think of them?"

"Surprised Carmen's taking them on, I suppose."

Daisy laughed, smoothing out her Jr. Miss shirt. Gone were the days of overalls and plaid for this girl. Ash missed it. "Awww . . . yeah. John backed out last moment. Claimed projectile vomiting. Actually, he got stone-cold drunk last night with Harris."

"Bad role models."

"I know. You should have seen me this morning." He gave her a look. The hardest thing Daisy drank was a near-overdose of NiteQuil in her cocoa when the flu came around. "I was the one who had to deal with the drunks."

He laughed. Daisy was exceptionally impatient with anyone drunk at three in the morning when she had been vividly dreaming of hunky, near naked model. "No details, _please_."

"Oh, I won't soil your virgin ears with what I did to them. But it was good. Or should I say bad." She grinned wickedly, and then more kindly. "Are you gonna come up one of these times? We could do our dance number, provided no deep dips?"

Ash stuck out his tongue in disdain. "Ehh, please, not up on stage again. I beg of you. I throw myself on the mercy of the . . . wait, strike that."

"That's right." She poked his chest. "We _have_ no mercy! Mwah-hahahaha." She waved away her evil laugh. "I figured I had to ask. Darryl will if he catches you."

"Darryl won't _ask _me to do anything," Ash said dryly. "More like order. And if he gets Bobby on his side, Mew help me."

"Don'tcha know it. I won't tell them you're here though." Her nose crinkled again, and Daisy squeezed his arm. "Been nice seeing you, Ash. Don't be a stranger, okay?"

"Comes with the mystique, I thought," he teased, but nodded.

She grinned again. "Maybe you could at least come up for a flute solo. Crowd always loved that, you know." She was pleading, lightly. "Always good PR if we can get the Champ up with us."

"No promises."

Stepping away, Daisy smiled. "I'd never expect. See you around."

Ash watched her go, his smile slowly fading. He liked Daisy. Her and Avi, who was currently schooling in Kanto. They had never expected him to fold and follow. Daisy had never held it against him that he had lied to the group, to her. It was nice to just be taken in and forgiven.

His eyes went back to the stage as Carmen finished. Jules, Marzena, Sammy, and Jeromy were making it up, always with their lighter, more engaging songs. When they were together and playing, they never played elevator music, for a lack of a better term. If they played it, the audience watched and saw. The quartet never did something so moving it touched you—that was for solos or duets—but it entertained.

It was such an odd group of friends he had, Ash supposed. _The Pokémon_—they never had changed their name, despite their numerous promises to do so—was a island where he always went when he needed a break from Training. They were so different from him in most respects, but they held together and took his extra hands for a few weeks or month every year. Heaven knows what could have happened to him if there hadn't been this group in his life. He wouldn't have burned out, no, but something else would have happened.

He would have distanced, he supposed. Been unable to connect with anyone. Even with Shamin as his constant—or perhaps not so constant, considering she left him more oft than not to travel by himself when they reached a new level of bickering—companion, relating to people had become difficult in everyday situations. Even with company, Ash reckoned he had always traveled alone on his journey, some part of him unable to touch or be touched by someone else. Heaven knows Shamin complained about it enough—how he never let her help him, how he stopped talking to her even when nothing was wrong, how he never blended with people, how come he seemed so rude.

But he had tried, tried to keep the walls from building around him. He never knew why they built themselves up in the first place, but that they did. The more he worked with Pokémon, the less the human circle mattered, the less he could understand. Even now Ash could remember the feelings as isolation and alienation. When he won Indigo, God, he couldn't touch the people. Their cheers hadn't meant anything to him. It was all nothing, just . . . white noise in his ears, pressing from all sides, crushing so that he had to escape quickly back to the simpler world of Training.

The walls scared him, they did. It was scary to him, now, to admit that Pikachu was his closest friend, that he could relate to a _Pokémon_ easier than to a Human.

Once, just once, he confided that to Shamin. He remembered her just staring at him for the longest time, blue eyes holding something. He knew he had hurt her deeply with that statement. She had always thought they were best friends to each other, more than that, and he delivered the crushing blow that he could relate more to Pikachu than to Humans. To her, in essence.

He remembered hearing her cry when she thought he had been asleep.

At the time thought, they had sat in silence, him staring at the fire, Shamin staring at him, Pikachu and Trigger asleep in the corner, sky bright with stars.

_Shamin took a deep breath. "Ash, you don't really think that, do you?" she asked quietly, hardly above the insects of the night._

_He nodded slightly, looking down at the ground between his shows. "I think I do," he whispered back, suddenly ashamed to have admitted it. It had just come out._

_He heard her lips, could almost hear her force her lips into a quick smile. She set a hand on his knee and squeezed, and Ash looked up. "Do you know what the Gratema believe?"_

_Of course he hadn't. It was useless trivia. "No."_

"_They believe that everything, everyone is a Pokémon. The trees themselves, rocks, the sky, the sun, us."_

"_What a silly belief," he said, catching in his throat. He knew what she was trying to do, and part of him would forever be grateful to her._

"_No, it's not Ash. It's not." She blinked slowly. "What kind of Pokémon Master can't commune with every type Pokémon there is?"_

_He had to say it. "One that's real."_

_Her head shook, and she swallowed. She was trying not to cry. "One that's not trying hard enough," she whispered, eyes pleading._

_Ash smiled sadly and shook his head, standing up. Shamin's hand fell away. "Good night, Shamin."_

"_G'night, Ash."_

She had left two days later, to spend time with Miriam. Ash knew she hadn't told Miriam of the conversation. Miriam would have defiantly given him an earful, Pyro would have taken a mouthful. It had been nearly two months before Ash finally made it to the little troupe, another Trophy in hand, another scar on his back. Hugs had been passed all around, as was custom, and Shamin had looked at him with her eyes, silently asking the question. He had given some lame, feeble smile, she gave it back, then asked him to watch the show with her. Of course he had agreed.

You didn't turn away an offer like that.

_The show was melancholy, different from the usual idea that the group dallied with. At first, Ash thought it was because of Jules, who had seriously liked more somber ideas, more classical, less dance club. At first, of course._

"_This used to be my playground  
This used to be my childhood dream  
This used to be the place I ran to  
Whenever I was in need  
Of a friend  
Why did it have to end  
And why do they always say  
Don't look back?  
Keep your head held high?  
Don't ask them why  
Because life is short.  
And before you know  
You're feeling old  
And your heart is breaking.  
Don't hold on to the past . . .  
Well that's too much to ask._

_Live and learn  
Well the years they flew  
And we never knew  
We were foolish then  
We would never tire  
And that little fire  
Is still alive in me  
It will never go away  
Can't say goodbye to yesterday,  
can't say goodbye_

_This used to be my playground  
This used to be my childhood dream  
This used to be the place I ran to  
Whenever I was in need  
Of a friend.  
Why did it have to end  
And why do they always say . . ._

_No regrets?  
But I wish that you were here with me  
Well then there's hope yet I can see your face  
In our secret place  
You're not just a memory  
Say goodbye to yesterday, the dream  
Those are words I'll never say, I'll never say_

_This used to be my playground - used to be  
This used to be our pride and joy  
This used to be the place we ran to  
That no one in the world could dare destroy . . ._

_I wish you were standing here with me . . ._

_This used to be our secret hiding place . . ._

_This used to be our playground - used to be  
This used to be our childhood dream  
This used to be the place we ran to  
The best things in life are always free  
Wishing you were here with me . . ."_

"_Why?" he asked, looking at Shamin._

_She looked back innocently. Somehow she had managed to perfect the look. "What?"_

"_Why this?"_

"_Didn't you read the dedication? 'For Trainers, in troubling times'?"_

"_You shouldn't have brought them into this?"_

_Shamin glared at him. "Into what? You're not the only Trainer that Life spits out. The world doesn't center around you, Ash." She raised her head. "And if I did, what of it? Friends keep you grounded."_

_Darryl had started to sing in the background._

"_A trainer's life is hard  
You're travel routes so far  
Away from friends and family . . ._

"_You should go home, Ash."_

"_I will."_

"_Now. I'll help."_

"_No, it won't."_

"_Yes, it will. Trust me."_

"_You learn to sacrifice  
Always ready to pay the price  
But what you have to understand  
Even heroes need a helping-hand . . ."_

_He wanted to say "I do", but what came out is, "I can't."_

"_Whatever you want, whatever you need  
You know you can always count on me  
There'll always be someone waiting  
'Cause you're never too far from home  
Where ever you go, whatever you do  
You know we'll be there to pull you through  
You know there'll be someone waiting  
'Cause you're never too far from home."_

_Shamin pulled back. "Why not? Because I'm not a Pokémon?" she hissed._

"_No!"_

"_If I turned into an . . . an Eevee you could suddenly relate to me better?!"_

"_You won't turn into a Eevee," he argued pointless._

"_Then what? Huh?"_

"_We never had a doubt  
You'd always figure out  
Which way you're going . . ."_

"_I don't know what, Shamin!"_

"_You're supposed to be a Pokémon wannabe Master and you can't pick a Pokémon that could allow me to actually talk to you!"_

"_That's not what I meant!" He never could see Shamin as one Pokémon, an all-encompassing one that completely fit her. "You don't work like that!"_

"_So is that why Pokémon are so much easier for you, because they're simpler?"_

_His mouth opened, but no words came out._

"_Be proud of what you've done  
And the person you've become  
But if you ever feel afraid  
We're gonna help you find your way_

_Whatever you want, whatever you need  
All of our love will set you free  
You know there'll be someone waiting  
'Cause you're never too far from home_

_You're never too far from home!"_

"_Is that it? Because you can figure out what Pokémon do, while people are too unpredictable?" Shamin demanded._

"_No! It's not . . that . . ."_

"_Then what?"_

_Whatever you want, whatever you need  
All of our love will set you free  
You know there'll be someone waiting  
You're never too far from home"_

"_I don't know, Shamin!"_

_Where ever you go, whatever you do  
All of your dreams will soon come true  
You know there'll be someone waiting  
You're never too far from home_

_She looked at him, really looked at him. "Ash, what are you going to do when you have no choice but to either choose to go home or go off into the Pokémon life? Are you going to choose Pokémon over your mother, over your family, friends, over me? What are you going to choose?"_

"_You. You guys, of course! I can't . . . I couldn't just leave my mom, my dad . . ."_

"_But what have you been doing all this time!"_

"_Training!"_

"_Hiding! Ash, please, just go home."_

"_You're never too far from home . . . "_

_Ash looked at her hopelessly. "I . . . I can't . . ."_

"_That's my excuse," Shamin snapped. "Please, before it's too late, before you really, really can't! Please?"_

" _I . . .I will."_

"_Promise me."_

"_I promise, Shamin."_

_She looked at him. "You know I'd do anything for you, Ash?"_

"_Well, not anything, Shamin," he pointed out._

"_Shut up. You do know, right?"_

"_Of course."_

"_Do the same for me, then."_

"_I will."_

_Her look said she clearly didn't believe him, but she dropped the subject and smiled, again the feeble, lame smile. He smiled it right back. And later they had taken hands and walked through the small city._

Ash folded back to the present as Daisy stepped up, smiling warmly, and PJ smirked at keyboard.

"Countless eyes are watching  
In this our finest hour  
It's time to realize the dream  
Of who we really are  
I'm gonna freeze this space in time  
Rise to make the call  
Cease the moment  
Make it mine  
And through it all

Straight as the arrow flies  
I will run towards the finish line  
With all the strength I've found  
My feet won't touch the ground  
I will scale the heights if I believe  
The wings of faith will carry me  
I'll go the distance just to reach  
The arms I'm running to  
I'll go the extra mile for you

I know it won't be easy  
To make you understand  
I want to take the glory  
And put it in your hands  
'Cause your the light that makes me shine  
You're the hero in my eyes  
Win or lose  
Do or die  
I am aiming high.

Straight as the arrow flies  
I will run towards the finish line  
With all the strength I've found  
My feet won't touch the ground  
I will scale the heights if I believe  
The wings of faith will carry me

I'll go the distance just to reach  
The arms I'm running to  
I'll go the extra mile for you  
(Go the extra mile)  
In the end  
(Go the extra mile)  
I want to be able to say  
I gave all of me  
For the world to see  
I would do it all again  
I'd go the extra mile

Straight as the arrow flies  
I will run towards the finish line  
With all the strength I've found  
(All the strength I've found)  
My feet won't touch the ground  
I will scale the heights if I believe  
The wings of faith will carry me  
I'll go the distance just to reach  
The arms I'm running to

I'll go the extra mile  
For you

Knowing it will be worth while  
I will go the extra mile  
For you . . ."

The entire song he had looked away. Shamin said that was her song, she sang it to him once, albeit poorly. He took a deep breath, suddenly feeling trapped. He had to get out, just get out and away before more memories plagued his conscience. In a blur, he felt himself leave the building, and outside Ash closed his eyes, leaning against a wall, breathing deeply.

"At least I kept my promise," he said quietly.

Within a few minutes Pikachu peaked out, have sensed that her Trainer had left. "Pi?" she asked concerned, and the concern was in no way relieved when Ash smiled down at her with that smile. "Pikapi?"

Ash smiled at her concern, but then thought about other things. By now the others would have left to come after and question him, so he could head back. His mother wouldn't interrogate him. There would be a sanctuary for a brief time.

"Let's head back," he sighed. Maybe he could get a few minutes of sleep before the others gave up. Before the memories returned.

****

"Wait!" Brock yelled, halting the hunting party with a jolt.

"What, Brock?" Gary asked, annoyed.

"Do you see Ash?" Tracey asked, scanning the area and trying to see whatever Brock saw.

"No," Brock got out in a soft, sweet voice, sniffing the air. "Better."

Misty slammed her hand into her head. "Let me guess. Jenny or Joy?" she demanded.

"Huh?" Brock murmured, then shock his head. "Neither. It's her."

"Ooh, that covers a lot of area," Gary snapped. "We're looking for _ASH_! Stalk girls on your own time!"

"I don't stalk girls!" Brock countered.

"That's debatable."

Misty rolled her eyes and continued walking, silently wondering why God created men. Then suddenly she saw a flash of white under a bush, and a set of familiar red eyes looked out.

"Hey, look! There's a Ninetales!" Tracey said, interrupting the debate to jog over and look at the Pokémon.

"That's Miriam's Ninetales!" Brock yelled happily, figuring that it the Pokémon was around, so would his Trainer.

The Ninetales—Pyro, they remembered his name to be—slipped out from the bush and glared at them. "Nine," he snarled. Then his tails arched into a pattern.

"Did you see that!" Tracey exclaimed, almost near shock. "He can control all his tails individually!"

Pyro looked at him as if to say, _No duh. And you're supposed to be the most observant of the bunch?_ He sniffed the air, seemingly upset that the trail went towards them and that he was wasted his time on a red herring as pointless as this one. He snarled to himself, standing up to walk away.

"Hey, there!" Brock called, running over the fox and kneeling in front of him. He received a fireball as punishment for getting in Pyro's way.

"Nasty little guy, isn't he?" Gary commented with a smirk. He was very surprised when a fireball went _his_ way. "Hey, watch the temper!"

"Umm, Pyro?" Misty started hesitantly, seeing that the fox suddenly divulged his fangs to her. "Is Ash with Miriam?"

The fox snorted. "Ni," he answered, laying back his ears to glare at Tracey, who was trying to get a closer look. Then he arched an eyebrow at Misty, as if contemplating something. Whatever he thought seemed to satisfy him, for he suddenly started to jog away.

"I don't think I like him," Gary growled, fixing his hair again.

"How can't you!" Tracey exclaimed. "He's like a perfect specimen of Pokémon of that scale!"

Misty rolled her eyes. "Are you okay, Brock . . ." She trailed off, seeing that the elder was following the Pokémon. "Oh, god! Brock! We don't have time to talk to Miriam!" she yelled.

"Hey, maybe she's looking for him!" he countered. "Ninetales are excellent trackers!"

"He's got a point," Gary admitted.

"And we just _happen_ to meet Miriam because of it," Misty sighed.

"Win some, lose some," Tracey smiled, sketchpad out and attempting to draw and jog at the same time.

"Looks like we're losing more than we're winning," Gary growled, and Misty nodded in agreement.

****

"Miriam! A pleasure to see you again!"

"Looks like Brock found her," Gary commented as they did a slow walk up the hill.

"Excuse me—"

"My, you are looking exquisite today! Not that you weren—YEE OW-CH!"

They saw the scene just as Miriam said, "Thank ya, Pyro." She was massaging the blood back into her arm, while Brock was currently nursing a bloody ankle and trying to appear harmless in front of the growling fox. She saw the others coming up. "Hey! Ya're Blondie's friends, right?" She looked ready to commit murder.

"Yeah, that's us, I suppose," Gary drawled. "Something wrong?"

"Oh, I think I jist got to talk to 'im and clear up this little point of his," she snapped. "Ya know where he is?"

"We're following your Ninetales because we figured he did," Misty explained. "Oh, and sorry about Brock. We have to get a leash for him sometime."

Miriam shrugged. "Pyro, ya know where the lyin' bastard is?"

"Nine niii ales tale," he answered, nodding towards them but still glaring at Brock. "Tail nine nine ales ni."

"He's avoidin' ya guys?" Miriam questioned.

"Probably," Gary answered. Miriam nodded slightly.

"Good boy, Pyro. Let's go kill. No, not him!" she snapped, but a smile was on her face when Pyro jumped Brock. "Come alon'."

"Do you know where Ash is?" Misty asked.

"We have a good hunch," she replied tightly.

"So why do you want to kill Ash?" Gary smiled, watching Tracey help Brock to his feet and wondering if Pyro was going to have the honors. If he was, Gary wanted front row seats.

"I tend to get a wee bit upset if someone lies to me," Miriam said in a hard tone. "Especially 'bout what he lied 'bout."

"And what was that?" Misty asked.

"Not yar business," she glared. "He better have a damn good excuse, or be able to run very fast."

"Well, where is he?"

"Pyro reckons he headed back home. Makes sense. If ya're not there to bug him, why shouldn't he head back?"

The others looked at each other. It _did_ make sense.

"Niii," Pyro growled, fur bristling.

"I know whatcha mean," Miriam agreed, eyes darkening. She made a fist.

****

"Pikapi," Pikachu called, looking out the window then running to the bath. "Chu pika pikachu."

Ash spit the water out in the garbage. "Huh?" he got out, wiping his mouth. shit_, almost_.

"Chuka pi pikachu pichu kapi," she stated. Then she paused. "Chuka pika chukapika chu."

"Miriam never looks happy this early in the day," Ash yawned, smiling slightly as he moved out of the room to see the closing posse. Then he made a worried face. "Yee, this does not bode well."

"Pi," Pikachu agreed.

"I'll just avoid this, huh?" Ash grinned sadly, lifting the window up. "I do like living with all limbs attached."

"Pikapi," she said disapprovingly, stepping in front of him so he couldn't retreat. "Chuka pika chuchu."

He merely shrugged, slipping off the screen and leaning over to grab a tree branch. "I suppose you're right, as always." He hoisted himself through the window, moving Pikachu aside, who watched her Trainer in exasperation. He then swung over to the next branch, climbing down. Pikachu followed, shaking her head sadly.

Ash slipped down the tree easily, leaning against it so he could see the others approaching, but so they couldn't see him as well. Yep, Miriam looked ready to kill. What'd he do _this_ time? Ash shook his head. It really never paid to run away from Miriam, or Pyro, but to just face them. Both enjoyed the Chase and the Capture. He who surrendered peacefully died less painfully.

_Usually_, he mentally added.

"Pika," Pikachu smiled, running down the tree and actually in plain sight of the others. She waved happily at them, rushing over.

"Rodent! Been lookin' all over for ya," Miriam smiled, kneeling down to pet the mouse.

"Chuka . . ." Pikachu said warningly, clearly stating that she knew exactly what for Miriam was looking for them.

"So where's Ash?" Gary asked, looking around intently.

"Chu—pikachu!" she yelped when Pyro gave her a mild fireball for lying. "Chu pikpika chu pikachu!"

Pyro growled. "Niii! Ninetales ni ales!"

"What do you suppose he's saying?" Misty asked Brock. Well, whatever it was, Pikachu didn't like it. Not at all.

"PI!" she sputtered, shocks escaping her cheeks. "Pi PIKACHU! CHUKA PIK—"

"NIN!" he snapped, going down into a defensive crouch. If it was a fight she wanted . . .

"Miriam! Call him off!" Ash ordered suddenly, coming out from behind his tree. He didn't want to see the two friends start a fight over something that was between him and Miriam, a fight that could very well escalate to deadly levels, given the loyalty, stubbornness, and power level the two Pokémon were at.

Miriam gave no such order, walking over to Ash. The others stayed back, knowing that this was personal, and the Pokémon stood poised, neither willing to make the first attack, but willing enough to continue the fight should the other start it.

"What is it, Miriam?" Ash asked, arms crossed over his chest.

He couldn't even blink when Miriam's fist headed for him, nor dodge it. And Miriam always had a powerful jab. Instinctively he leaped back and entered a stance he never thought he'd go into again, let alone against a friend. The others had yelled their surprise at Miriam's actual attack, not actually thinking she _was_ going to try and kill Ash, rushing over to stop.

"Ya deserved that," Miriam spat before she started her attack anew.

Ash didn't deny it, but idly wondered exactly what Miriam thought it was for as he blocked and leaped back. He wouldn't attack Miriam. If she really wanted to kill him, so be it, but he wouldn't allow himself to attack her.

****

Pikachu was surprised at Miriam's attack, even more than the others. "PI!" she screeched, forgetting Pyro and rushing over to help Ash. Pyro stopped by leaping in front of her. "_Get out of my way, Pyro!_"

"_Not on your life,_" he growled. "_He has it coming for what he did_."

"_Pikapi did nothing!"_ Pikachu snapped, trying to get by him, but he nimbly blocked her way again. "_Back off, PYRO! I'm warning you!_"

He laughed. "_Go ahead, Rodent. I eat things like you for breakfast._"

Pikachu growled. _"Wrong! You never ate things like me!_" And she leaped, tumbling into Pyro and sent them rolling_._

Pyro bit hard, and Pikachu did the same as they tumbled. When both were away from each other, Pyro's ears were bleeding heavily, and Pikachu was favoring her mangled front paw.

"Stop it, both of you!" Misty screamed, talking to both groups, but more worried about the bleeding Pokémon.

"_What's your problem!" _Pikachu demanded as they circled.

"_I have no problem_."

"_Why are you frinking attacking us!_"

Pyro growled. "_Don't even pretend you don't know why!"_

"_I don't! And neither does Pikapi!_"

The fox growled, watching her with narrowed eyes. "_I must say, you've become a far better liar—_"

"_I'm not lying!_"

"—_or your Trainer has lied to you._"

"_Pikapi would never lie to me!"_

_"Or, really?_" he snarled. "_Well, he had no qualms lying to me or Miriam!"_

"_We never lied to you!_" Pikachu snapped. Now, instead of circling each other, they were glaring at each other with only inches separating them.

"_Maybe you use the wrong pronoun, then!_"

"_What's this all about!_"

And Pyro told her.

Pikachu blinked, sitting back hard. "_Impossible! I was there! I saw it happen!"_

"_Liar!"_

"_Dammit, __**I'm**__ not lying! I was there, so don't tell me I'm a liar when I plain as day saw it!"_

Pyro growled, but backed up slowly. "_And what are you saying? Someone pulling wool over both our eyes_?"

"_It's a trap, a trick!_" Pikachu sputtered. "_They know Pikapi won't go back without some kind of reason! But Pyro, we saw it! It's nothing but a lie!_"

He shook his head, growling, ignoring the trickle of blood that had slowly been making its way down his lean muzzle. "_First thing's first, but you've got a Hell of a lot of explaining to do!_" Then he started to bound over to their feuding Trainers. Despite Miriam's _wonderful _ability to fight, Ash had managed to shove her to the ground, his knee digging into her back and pinning her arms behind her back, and the others swarmed in closer.

Okay, so the fight was totally uncalled for, totally Miriam's fault, but _**NO ONE**__ handled Miriam that way_! Anger raging, Pyro leaped, Pikachu gripping his tails in a futile effort to hold him back when she saw how the fight had ended. _Not again_, she pleaded.

"Pikapi!" she yelled as warning as they drew closer.

Ash looked up just in time to see Pyro valet off the ground.

****

Misty could hardly believe her eyes, watching the two old friends fight. Miriam fought well, very well, in fact, and Misty knew that she'd lose against her if they were to battle hand-to-hand. And Ash, he definitely knew _what_ he was doing, blocking and staying just out of reach. All that practice with Hitmonlee and Hitmonchan did serve a purpose.

Gary had tried to subtly yell at them to stop, and Tracey was nursing a bruised cheek from his attempt. Brock, well, other than the fact he could barely walk from Pyro's attack, was totally enthralled at Miriam's ability to move and didn't bother to stop it any more than by saying, "Ash, don't hurt her!"

Pyro and Pikachu both had stopped for the time, something Misty was glad for. Pikachu needed immediate medical attention, and someone had to stop Pyro before someone else needed his share of the attention. At least the Pokémon had more sense than their Trainers did.

And then Pyro saw Miriam's current condition. Misty could barely find her voice to scream as the fox leaped, snarling and sharp teeth bared.

"ASH!"

He ducked and rolled over to the side, and Pyro, with Pikachu still attached to his tails, sailed over Miriam, turning to face where Ash should have been. But the Trainer had planted his hands at the end of the roll and managed to flip backwards several times. He landed perfectly and stood poised for whatever could come next.

Pyro attempted to leap, but Pikachu held fast. "PIKA!" Then he turned on her, growling.

"Nine niiiiiii ales," he snarled darkly, and Pikachu very carefully let go of his tails.

"Pi ka," she got out, smiling apologetically.

Miriam pushed herself up, tossing back her hair with a careless hand. Pyro nuzzled her. "Look what yar bloody Rodent did to my baby!" she hissed, scooping the fox up.

"No worse than what he did to Pikachu," Ash said coolly as Pikachu ran over to him. "He did far worse, in fact," he said grimly, examining the wounded paw.

"Now would someone care to tell me why this even happened?" Gary demanded, taking it upon himself to take Brock's pack and shift for the bandages and Potions. He didn't get closer than five feet to Pyro, so Gary went over to Ash to take care of Pikachu.

"A basic Miriam All-Men-Deserve-To-Die?" Ash mused sarcastically, holding Pikachu so Gary could tend to the wound.

"At least one does!" she snapped back, holding a handkerchief to Pyro's ears.

"Pika! Pikachu pi Chuka pika pikachu pi pichu _kaCHU_ _CHU_-_PPPIIIIIIIIKAAAAA_!" she yelled as Gary sprayed some disinfectant on her wound.

"Hold still, then," Gary said grimly, tying the bandage.

"What were you saying?" Ash asked calmly. Pikachu blinked at him. Was he even listening to her?

"Pikapi!" she lamented. "Chuka pikachu pi pikachu chu!"

Ash looked at Miriam. "So this is what this is all about?" He spoke so softly, so carefully.

"I don't speak Rodent," Miriam snapped. "But probably. And here's evidence, plain and simple." She produced a piece of paper from her pocket and waved it towards him. "Why the Hell did ya lie to me?"

"I never lied to you, Miriam."

"Excuse me, but is there this ring of conversation that just bypasses us completely?" Misty shouted. First she tried to kill him, and now they're having a pleasant chitchat! "What's going on?"

"Miriam made a mistake."

"_I_ don't make mistakes," she growled. "Do ya know how much grief ya put me through with yar tale!"

Ash hung his head. "I can imagine, Miriam, but I never lied to you. How could you even think that I would about this?"

"And what 'bout this, huh?"

"Delay in the mail, maybe," Ash tried, then shrugged. "Anyway, it doesn't matter. It's too late."

Miriam narrowed her eyes. "That's some delay in the mail, I'll say. Why don't ya read the letter, huh?" She walked over and shoved the letter to him. Ash sighed and started to read it.

It was very quiet while Ash read the letter.

"Who do you suppose it's from?" Tracey asked quietly to the others. They all shrugged. It was just another mystery about Ash that they had to solve.

A sharp intake of breath from Ash drew their attention back. "That's impossible," he murmured.

"What is?" Misty demanded, hating the fact that she had no idea as to what was going on.

Ash crumpled the letter in his hand. "Is this some cruel joke, Miriam?" he demanded. "Because I'm not laughing."

"And neither am I!"

"Do you think I'm stupid enough to think this isn't a trick? Dammit, I told you I tried, all right? I tried. Fine, it was my fault! Are you happy! It was all **my fault**! But that's no reason to do something like this, Miriam! None!"

Miriam glared at him, and then gasped when she saw that he was crying. "Then tell me what it is?"

Ash tore the letter into tiny pieces, and when he looked back up, the tears were gone. "I'll find out soon enough. Damn, I know I will. And I will kill the one responsible for this, I promise," he said coldly.

They all looked at him in shock because of the conviction they heard.

****

"So you're Miriam?" Mrs. Ketchum smiled, always happy to meet one of Ash's friends.

Miriam smiled, taking the cup of tea offered. "Yep. Just passin' through, Mrs. Ketchum."

"Your Ninetales is very beautiful," she smiled, petting Pyro, who all but purred under her hand.

"Niii," he dripped.

"Chu pikachu?" Pikachu teased off-handedly, which caused Pyro to jerk out of his pleasure.

"Ales?!" he demanded incredulously. Pikachu merely smiled, pausing in chewing her biscuit. "Ninetales ninenine!" She laughed.

"Kapi chupichu." And then Pyro grinned devilishly.

"What was that all about?" Tracey asked Miriam as he drew the Pokémon. She shrugged, sipping her tea.

"I barely understand Pyro when he talks to other Pokémon, I'm sorry to say. I think he slips into a whole new language when he talks to Rodent, anyway."

"Well, what did Pikachu say, Ash?" Brock asked, icing his ankle and sitting semi-close to Miriam, as Ash sipped his tea. There was a faint smile on Ash's face before he answered.

"Nothing I can divulge that wouldn't cause me to lose my hand with the loss of Pyro's integrity," he said softly.

"Pyro doesn't need to lose that for ya to lose a hand," Miriam said darkly.

"Nor does it have to be Pyro that takes it." Ash sipped his tea quite calmly.

Everyone looked at Ash while trying to seem like they weren't. Mrs. Ketchum cleared her throat. "Would you like something to eat, Miriam?" She was already passing a plate.

"Thank ya."

"So, Ash, would you mind terribly if you told us all what is going on?" Gary asked sarcastically, inspecting Umbreon. Pyro had taken an immediate dislike to the dark Pokémon and had expressed it as only he could: painfully. Thankfully, Umbreon was beyond the level of starting a squabble, although Gary conceded it would have been terribly difficult for the Psychic Pokémon to actually fight back safely and by the rules. Pyro didn't play by those tactics.

Luckily, Mr. Mime had been out shopping.

Gary had been ticked that Miriam hadn't even told her Pokémon off. In fact, they had gotten into a fight about it, which only ended when Ash intervened, before Pyro. Gary had verbally expressed Miriam's lack of ability as a Trainer by way of a last word. Miriam had countered by saying she never was a Pokemon Trainer, nor would she ever be one. It was a profession suited only to unintelligent people "such as yarself."

"Yes, I would," Ash said simply, allowing a snickering Pikachu to climb onto his lap. "Don't _even_ think about it."

"Ka?" she asked innocently. Ash looked at her sternly, and Pikachu conceded by stepping off and heading outside for a moment. Everyone followed her for a moment, wondering what was going on, but were brought back when Ash continued.

"I'm waiting for something, Gary, all right? If I knew, I wouldn't be waiting for it." He poured himself some more tea. "But I suspect it will be very loud and . . . _unique_, if I guess right."

"And what do you guess?" Gary snapped.

"I don't guess."

"Oh no, you just know everything, don't you?" Misty sneered.

"I _didn't_ say that." He looked at the clock and sighed. "For the past few days, I've known _something_ was going to happen. With the timing and GipSi's response, well, it can only be one thing for sure."

"GipSi's response?" Tracey repeated.

"Ya still have that lil' thief?" Miriam asked, almost delighted. She considered a work of Pride for her part in instructing—Miriam never used the word training when it came to her own dealings with Pokémon—the squirrel. "How is she?"

"Fine. GipSi has a strong mistrust with a pair of goof balls," Ash said, answering both questions in turn. "Do you remember those two Eevee's I tried to give you some time back?"

"Ya mean _dump_ off on me," Miriam corrected testily. Pyro suddenly started to growl. "Couldn't bloody train them, could ya? I told ya ya couldn't."

"Depends on how you view training, I suppose. I don't control them like I should, but neither do they totally disobey me. They tend to go wherever they want, but occasionally turn up, with trouble." His jovial attitude dissolved. "I left them to it in the Dark Mountains, because they liked it there." He spoke suddenly very bitterly.

Gary snorted. "And you call yourself a Trainer, abandoning them out there. It's dangerous!"

"I didn't 'abandon' them," Ash snapped, gripping the armrest and almost jumping out of the chair at the charge. "They wanted to stay, and I wasn't going to force those two to go if they didn't want to. I just wanted to get out of those mountains as quickly as possible. Oh, but they'll come back. They probably are back, just waiting to make their entrance. Don't take me wrong, I love those two rascals, but I won't waste my time trying to get them to listen to my every beck and call. I don't battle with them, although I probably should, considering their promise. If I did, I'd worry, but I don't. I just raise the two . . . very leniently."

"And how are two Eevee's supposed to survive and get back to you?" Gary demanded, remembering Umbreon before he evolved. _How much work could it be to train them anyway?_ He added mentally in a very savage tone.

"Gary's right, Ash!" Misty agreed. "That's been totally irresponsible!"

"If the Pokémon Leagues found out," Brock sputtered, "you'd be stripped of rank!"

"All your Pokémon would be confiscated!" Tracey added.

Support came from an unexpected source. "Have ya ever met these two?" Miriam demanded. Pyro snorted his agreement. "They're the Devil reincarnate! Shit, they're worse than Pyro, on a good day! I mean," she waved her hands vaguely, "we had to replace thousands of dollars worth of musical equipment thanks to those devils! And PJ broke his leg when those two _pushed_ him down the stairs. And they did, too!"

"Don't worry about it, Miriam," Ash said lightly. "And they didn't push him. He tripped over them. And they were really sorry about that, too."

She snorted. "But they're talkin' about takin' away that title of yars!"

He shrugged. "I don't have a title."

"Officially, yeah, but I read those magazines—only because they have specials 'bout us in them, understand! Everyone _knows_ ya're the next Master if ya'd only take the bloody test! Jeez, ya know how many articles they did when ya turned down the World League spot? _Again, third year runnin'!_ Ya could win it all!"

"Thank you for the faith, but don't make any bets just yet."

"And you're not even worried!" Misty screeched. "All it takes is someone to report you to the Board."

"And then my case would come under inspection," Ash continued smoothly, totally uncaring. "And Tennis and Volley would show up, and, well, the building would have to be repaired."

"Your reputation would be ruined," Tracey pointed out. "No League would have you."

"Maybe you should wait until you actual meet the two before you judge my tactics," Ash advised, sipping his tea again.

Mrs. Ketchum was biting her nails in worry at what they all were saying. This conversation had gotten entirely out of hand. Ash couldn't be stripped of rank! And he did what was best for his Pokémon, she knew it. He wouldn't have changed that much from her sweet little pumpkin. No, no he wouldn't. "Are you sure you shouldn't be worried, dear?"

Ash raised his eyes, startled at the worry he saw. No, he didn't care what Indigo said about his tactics, no. He knew what he was doing, and he'd been to too many leagues to still have the falsehood that Indigo was the almighty great league, too many leagues that played by blood and treachery and lies. Ash was only grateful that his morals stood against the tests. Little did his family know that he had been called to the Indigo League about his recent baring of the soul. The representatives had been surprised at his cool, detached attitude as they read the demands made by some people. The demands were based upon the theory that since he had lied about himself, played a falsehood, given false information of the registration forms, and other numerous things, which led to the only solution that he should be removed from the League Hall of Fame, his winnings striped away. They had been surprised that Ash hadn't brought his lawyer along, and even more surprised when Ash stated that he never lied on his form. Dragging out the documents, Ash pointed out that he had signed his _real_ name, using Shan as a _nickname_. His age, birth date, his Pokémon, his number of years training were all accurate, and it was none of the League's business as to his training level, hometown, or participation in other leagues. Ash then clearly pointed out that he was qualified to the League by the rules. Plus, there was a line at the bottom that said to state information that he would be willing to have published—it did _not_ say that it was necessary to answer all questions in the truth of Law. Lastly, Ash departed by saying that they could remove records of his winnings, he didn't fucking care. But the sole fact remained was that he _won_. He _won_ the Battles, and they couldn't change that.

"_This is not about fame anymore_."

"Not about Pokémon League rulings, Mom. Just about—" He was interrupted by an exceptionally loud sound from outside.

"PIKACHU!"

It was harder to gage who was faster, Pyro or Ash, as they ran out the door, everyone else on their tail. They ran into a cloud of smoke, and everyone coughed.

"It's been a while since you've seen out kind of trouble," a voice sang out.

_Oh no_, ran through nearly everyone's head.

"But now that we're back, you're in for it double!"

"Back to bring the world some devastation!"

"Back to scare people of every nation!"

"To annoy everyone we despise and love!"

"To steal the show from all above!"

The smoke cleared to reveal two figured back-to-back, arms crossed over their chests, clad in the Team Rocket gray uniforms. The dark-skinned woman had dark purple hair half tied into a ponytail, and the man had light-purple pageboy length hair. Both opened their eyes (red and dark blue respectively) and let out sinister smirks.

"Tennis!"

"Volley!"

"Team Trouble's here, all right!"

"Run away now, go on, and take flight!"

And then the two broke out into giggles. "That was totally fun!" Tennis shrieked, gripping Volley's arms and jumping up and down.

"Let's do it again!" Volley said eagerly. "Except this time we blow something up!"

"And soar into the wild blue yonder!"

"All right, where's Pikachu, you two?" Ash demanded.

They suddenly looked of those in deep thought. "Pikachu . . . Pikachu," Tennis murmured. "Have you seen Pikachu, Volley?"

"I don't know, Tennis. I've seen lots of pikachu, but I don't know if I've seen Pikachu." Suddenly his outfit transformed, and he shoved a notepad under Ash's nose. "Could you please explain the Rodent in question?"

"Tennis, here, Live, bringing you up-coming coverage of the terrible disappearance of Pikachu. With me is her Trainer. Please, tell us what's going through your mind right now?" The microphone was shoved into Ash's face, barely missing his nose.

"Yellow, with red cheeks, uh huh, and long ears ending in black. And a jagged tail, you say, the base brown. Little, bit pudgy," Volley rambled on and on, jotting down the notes. "Don't worry, I'll have these posters posted pronto, Sir!" He displayed a blob that could look like a Pikachu, if you squinted really hard and the lighting was really bad. (Namely, if it was pitch black.)

"And how do you feel about this tragedy?" Tennis asked Tracey.

Tracey looked at the woman. Wasn't Tennis supposed to be an Eevee?

"He's speechless, folks."

"Where is Pikachu?" Ash repeated.

Tennis and Volley filed in, standing at attention. "We'll find her, Sir!" Volley bellowed.

"You can count on it! HEY LOOK! IT'S PYRO!"

"Don't ya even touch him!" Miriam shouted, scooping up the growling fox protectively. "Blondie!"

"We just want to pet him!"

"Hey! You pulled my hair!" Misty yelled, pointing at Tennis.

"Did not!" Volley retorted. "I did!"

"Ohh, that looks like it hurts! Can I touch it?" Tennis asked Brock, trying to grab his wounded ankle.

"Whoa! Cool necklace!"

"Back off!" Gary snapped, reaching behind for his Pokéballs. But they were gone! "Hey, where'd they go!"

Tennis suddenly started juggling, and gee, guess what the balls were. "Hi, lady!" she smiled at Mrs. Ketchum. "Hold these!" And suddenly she transferred the flying Pokéballs over to Mrs. Ketchum, who could only grab two and let the rest drop hopelessly. "Ahh, too bad. More practice!"

"Look at the Umbreon! Ooh, pretty pictures! Draw me!"

"No, me!"

"Ahh . . .help," Tracey got out as the two surrounded him.

"Blondie! Would ya knock them out or **somethin'**!" Miriam ordered as Tennis tried pulling one of Pyro's tails and avoid his fire, and Volley decided to start tormenting Umbreon by chasing him around Gary.

"Where's Pikachu?" he asked again, still very calm. "Or I'll do something drastic."

They ignored him and his warning, starting over to Mrs. Ketchum's garden, which was just ready for Winter.

"Hey, stay out of there!" Mrs. Ketchum ordered shakily. All of next year's flowers would be ruined if her garden were brought under their hands. "Ash!"

Ash let out a trilling whistle, and suddenly both Tennis and Volley froze. "What the!" GipSi shimmied down a tree, eyes glaring at them. "Why you! Just wait until we're out of here!"

Ash cleared his throat, walking in front of them. "Now . . . where is Pikachu?"

Tennis and Volley both met each other's gaze without moving, as they couldn't, growling, and attempted to nod. And suddenly a mass of yellow started to fall from the sky, and Pikachu's yells filled the air. She headed for the ground at bone-crunching speed, but was stopped gently at the very last inch.

"Now let us go!" Tennis ordered.

"Please, Trainer!" Volley added, dripping with I-deserve-pity. Ash was not fooled, although he nodded towards GipSi. The eyes extinguished, and the two dropped. The squirrel chittered with disapproval, then returned back to her perch in a hollow, curling back asleep.

"Nice to see you two again," he smiled.

"Ka!" Pikachu spat, climbing onto his shoulder.

Tennis and Volley stuck their tongues out at her.

"I thought you said they were Eevee's!" Gary snapped.

"We were!" Tennis countered. "But we're special!"

"We're unique!"

"Ya're a headache!"

"They evolved, or de-evolved." Ash grinned at their looks.

"They're a psychic type now?" Tracey asked, making a sketch of the two, who started to pose. "Remarkable, having the ability to project the illusion around them. They must be at a high level."

"What are they, Umbreon or Espeon?" Gary asked, suddenly very interested. It was rare to meet another Umbreon or Espeon, and two was even greater. His Umbreon looked at the other two critically; think along the lines of, _you can't be serious! They're like me? They must have been twice removed or something!_

"Both."

"Which is which?" Brock asked, coming closer.

"Based on my observations, Tennis would be the Umbreon, due to the dark hair color, which matches an Umbreon's fur color. And Volley would be the Espeon, for the same reason," Tracey concluded.

Tennis and Volley looked at each other. "Really?"

"You don't know?" Misty asked. They shrugged.

"Actually, not quite, Tracey," Ash interrupted. "Tennis and Volley are very special. Could you put down the form and show off your normal selves."

Tennis and Volley both loved the grant of more attention, and promptly their human forms dissolved, revealing two Eevee evolutions. Yet none that any of the other Trainers had seen. Tennis, although the color of an Umbreon, was missing the yellow circle spots that were on Gary's Umbreon. The large ears and tail were also different, more Espeon-ish in form. A red diamond shaped dot sat on her forehead, matching the eyes. Volley, on the other hand, held the light purple color of an Espeon _and_ the yellow markings of an Umbreon, although instead of circles, it was more like yellow, misshapen blobs. His ears and tails closer resembled a Umbreon's, and tiny dots like freckles dotted his nose.

"What are they?" Brock asked.

Ash shrugged, kneeling down to scratch both their ears. "An Umbreon/Espeon hybrid, I suppose."

"And how the Hell did you get that?" Gary demanded.

"They kind of evolved at really weird time. The sun was going down, and Volley started to evolve. It wasn't like a normal evolution, though. It really weirded me out, I'll tell you. It took far longer than it should have, finishing when it was the sun was half down. And then Tennis started a few minutes later—I guess not to be outdone—and she stopped evolving when the sun _was_ down." He smiled, looking at the others sheepishly. "I guess they're something like Twilight Pokémon, you know, between Sun and Dark."

"Do you know how rare they are?!" Tracey screeched.

"Gee, tell us, Tracey," Misty snapped sarcastically. "Out of all the Eevee Psychic evolutions I've seen, I have only seen these two like this. What is their actual Pokémon name?"

"They can't talk," he sighed, quickly drawing back his hands as the two butted heads. "Mutes. They could speak as Eevees, but I think that under the conditions of their evolution, they lost the ability. But they are very strong psychically. Yet they're irrational and easily distracted." Neither Pokémon took any terrible insult to the remark. Indeed, they weren't even paying attention.

"Obviously. No one misses hearin' them anyway," Miriam sniped. "They don't appear to have gotten any better behaved, either."

"They get worse, depending on the time of day. But they do have a plus side. You should reconsider taking them." Ash grinned at her, but Miriam shook her head.

"Why? What can they do?" Misty asked.

"Anything that'd give them attention," Ash chuckled, standing up, as the two rolled around. "But they love the stage." Then he looked at the two troublemakers. "All right, back to business: what are you two doing here anyway?"

"~Visiting?~" Volley asked, releasing his hold on Tennis' ear and disentangling themselves.

"~You're not happy to see us?~" Tennis twirled, looking at him from over her shoulder.

"Tala kicked you out?" Ash suggested.

"~_**NO**_!~" It was obvious that Tala, whoever she was, had.

"~It was very boring there~," Volley snapped. "~We're weren't kicked out.~"

"~No way!~"

"They're great on subtle," Gary commented to Misty.

"Kinda like how Ash was."

Pikachu started laughing from Ash's shoulder. "Chu pikachu pikapika pichu!" Ash's lips twitched into a smile as well.

"~She was a mean lady!~"

"~She made us _clean_! And behave!~"

Miriam grinned. "I like her already."

"Tell me, was anything strange going on in the temple?" Ash asked quietly. They both shook their heads. "Why were you thrown out?"

"~We weren't—!~"

"Why?" Ash repeated in hard tone.

The two Twilight Pokémon narrowed their eyes at Ash, and everyone gasped when a ring of energy surrounded him and Pikachu. Ash stood, arms crossed over his chest, and simply looked at the two rebels. And slowly they brought down the energy, unable to go through with the threat to their Trainer.

"~We don't know, all right!~" Tennis snapped, stomping her paw.

"~They told us to get out and go back to you.~" Nothing registered on Ash's face. "~And not to tell you—~" Volley stopped.

"Not to tell me what?"

The two looked at each other, and everyone could see that they were conversing between themselves, and arguing about it. "~We don't know what,~" Volley admitted.

"~They just told us not to tell you something. We, um, didn't hear exactly _what_.~

"Of course not," Ash muttered. He looked around the yard. "I don't suppose it would have been possible for anyone to follow you?"

"Pi?" Pikachu sputtered. "Chu pikachu pi chupi!"

The two Pokémon in question looked just as shocked at the question. "~What she said!~"

"~_No one_ but _no one_ can follow us!~"

"Only if you know they are following you," Ash muttered under his breath. "How about trailing you, then?"

"~_No_!~"

Gary literally rolled his eyes along with Ash. These two definitely didn't lack in self-assurance. "And why not?"

The two blinked over at him. "~We're not talking to you!~" they screeched, eyes flashing. Gary felt the hair on his head rise, and a great pain started in the back of his head, which only got greater and greater. He fell to the ground, clutching his head, and could feel the others swarming around him.

It was a Godsend when the pain stopped. Umbreon was nuzzling him terribly, whining (which Umbreon _never_ did). Gary, ignoring the others' demands if he was all right, turned so he could sit heavily on the ground massaging his eyes and temples, trying to regain his bearings.

"~We didn't do that!~"

"~We didn't! We just wanted to scare him!~"

"~He has no right to talk to us!~"

"~We didn't hurt him!~"

"_**SHUT UP**_!"

When Gary could open his eyes and pushed the others out of his way, he saw Ash standing there with the two Pokémon hanging in his hands by the naps of their necks. It was a dangerous hold on a large and heavy Pokémon, possibly choking it, but that didn't hit Gary first. What did was that Ash was mad. No, he was furious. No, enraged. No . . .

Well, we'll just stick with plain mad.

The others had never seen Ash angry during his return, and never had he ever in his entire life for any reason been angry like this for any of them. It was like a cloud had crossed over his face, contorting with his features. Ash looked dangerous, and the Pokémon were cowering in his grasp.

"~We didn't . . .~" one of them started in a dreadfully quiet voice.

Ash glared at the two, silencing any reprieve. "That was very . . . naughty," he hissed through clenched teeth.

"~But!~"

"I don't as Hell care why you did it. I told you never to use it. Never!" Ash growled. "But if you ever, ever attack another _thing_ in that manner, I will personally make sure you won't be able to ever again. Do you understand me?" His eyes showed the actual meaning of the threat, and that it wasn't a threat.

Both attempted to nod, and it was only then that Gary noticed that they actually were hanging. And when they were dropped without compassion, both curled into tiny balls and looked at Ash with shaking eyes.

"~We didn't do _that_, Trainer,~" one whispered. "~We're _good_ Pokémon.~"

He narrowed his eyes. "Very debatable," Ash spat, and they cowered. "This better be the last time you ever threaten a person."

"You should feel thankful they did, otherwise your friend would be in a coma. Or worse."

Ash froze. "I thought you said you weren't followed," he said softly to the two Pokémon after several slow minutes. Then he bent down and started to pet them gently. "Sorry, guys. My mistake." Tennis and Volley both looked up at him with the small sense of forgiveness. In reality, they were supposed to have been punished for the fact that they did attack Gary (which they had been told not to do several times before, but chose not to listen to), they couldn't hold a grudge against Ash to save their lives, and already the actual fear from the punishment was slipping from their minds.

"Only you would see punishing disobedient Pokémon as a mistake." A man was strolling up the road, wearing black pants and a black long-sleeved shirt, brown hair looped in the back of his head.

"The punishment was too severe for their goof, Dmitri," Ash growled, turning to face the man, fist clenched. "You, on the other hand, deserve something for attempted murder."

Dmitri laughed. "Those who only attempt murder just need more practice. And I wasn't going to murder your friend. I have no reason."

"I could probably give you one, you bastard," Gary spat, getting shakily to his feet to glare at the man.

"Pichu!" Pikachu spat, pushing herself against Ash as if to protect him. Dmitri grinned sardonically.

"If you must know, I didn't follow your little pets. They were thrown out a week after you left, and just now they come to you. It was dreadfully hard and boring to keep up with them, in any case."

"So ya decided ya might use me?" Miriam growled, allowing Pyro to slip from her arms and prowl in front of her.

"You know, that would have been so much easier, but alas, no. You never crossed our minds."

"And who are you?" Misty demanded.

"Gym Leader, right?" Dmitiri asked, pointing toward her. "Very obvious. Just as who is a breeder, watcher, owner, and Trainer." He nodded towards each of the others at their appropriate title.

"Which is why you chose to attack Gary," Ash snapped. "Testing the ability or some crap like that. What do you want?"

"'Some crap like that'?" Dmitri repeated, appalled. "Ash, you should know that the ability of a Trainer is the prime test of Pokémon training. Weaklings shouldn't be allowed to attempt it."

"Weak?" Gary sputtered. "Excuse me?"

Dmitri mistook the statements. "Oh, don't worry. You passed."

"Pokémon are meant for everyone," Brock countered.

"And you'd allow someone like them to battle?" he countered, pointing to Miriam and Mrs. Ketchum.

"And what's wron' with us?" Miriam snapped, ready to tell Pyro to sic him.

"Just ignore him, Miriam, and keep Pyro back," Ash advised with a growl, preparing to leave. "He doesn't know what he's talking about anyway."

"Oh, I don't?" he mocked. "I do know what can happen to an inexperienced Trainer who battles in the Constellation League."

"Forced to battle," Ash corrected. "By League rules."

"That's what happened?" Miriam demanded, shooting her glance back at Ash. He avoided her gaze, and Miriam found that her gaze shifted towards Dmitri, who nodded. "Ya mean . . . that was murder!" she got out. Suddenly, she gasped. "Oh, god, what did—"

"Miriam, no. Don't," Ash ordered quietly.

She gritted her teeth and advanced on Dmitri. "That was bloody murder!"

"Don't be so short-sighted. That was a Battle." Pyro literally leaped, but was suddenly held in the air when Dmitri raised his hand, tossing the fox back to Miriam.

Miriam clutched Pyro, holding him back from another attack. "Ya . . . ya're sick. No wonder Blondie booked it out of there!"

"What are you talking about?" Misty demanded.

"Private matters, Cerulean Gym Leader of the Indigo Division," Dmitri conceding said, mocking the title he gave her. "Proceeding at other Leagues are none of your concern. It is, in fact, death to speak of the Constellation League procedure to those not associated with it." He spoke to Ash specifically.

"Pikapi chu pipi kachu chu!" Pikachu spat. "Chu pika!"

Dmitri raised an eyebrow at the name Pikachu called him. "It was just a reminder."

"Ka!" Ash suddenly scooped her up and held her close, as if thinking Dmitri had something planned.

"Sounded more like a threat to me," Miriam agreed darkly.

"What do you want, Dmitri?" Ash interrupted, rubbing the back of his neck and shoulder irritably as Pikachu shimmied up his arm. "I'm not going back. I won, so there is no need for me to."

The man smirked. "Oh, isn't there? I believe that the other Trainer here has wished to battle at some of the Leagues you have gone to, hasn't he?"

Ash literally paled. "You wouldn't dare."

"We would," Dmitri greased.

Gary knew they were talking about him, as did everyone else, save maybe Miriam. He had made no great secret that he wanted Ash to tell him about the Leagues ever since he had heard about them, or at least give him some direction as to how to get there. "What are you talking about?"

"How would you like to compete in the Greatest Pokémon League ever?" Dmitri grinned. Gary stood unconvinced, and could very plainly see that it wasn't in his best interests to accept.

"I think you are delivering some false advertisements with that claim," he drawled.

"I don't think so."

"~We do,~" Tennis and Volley laughed, coming up to stand in front of Ash. This asshole had gotten them in loads of trouble, and they were going to make a point to put of bucket of oil and feathers over his door or something when they went back.

"~It was very boring.~"

"~And the bathrooms sucked.~"

"~And there weren't any food courts.~"

"~And I couldn't get any autographs.~"

"And that makes a great Pokémon League?" Dmitri sneered.

"Hell yeah," Miriam sneered, glaring at the man. A twisted smile played on her face. "Don't pay to go if they don't solve at least three of those four things."

He glared at her. "In any case, Trainer," he said, purposely ignoring Miriam's triumphant look when he couldn't waste time (or, as she saw it) think of a comeback.

"The name's Gary Oak."

"Whatever. You should consider coming."

"To bring Ash along? Think not."

"Oh, he wouldn't be under contract to come. Just yourself and your Pokémon."

"Excuse me, but why have you been looking for Ash?" Mrs. Ketchum demanded in a polite tone.

"It is merely League proceedings. And personal ones."

"Such as?" Ash asked sarcastically.

Dmitri looked around at the group. "Maybe such things are best discussed in private." And he snapped his fingers.

_**POKÉDEX**_

Zealots—the Following Pokémon: Zealots are notoriously annoying followers. As soon as they seen something—anything—that sparks their interest, they _never_ stop following it until something else gets their interest. Some get very aggressive in following, while others can be shy and reserved. Yet they enjoy shifting through personal belongings and "adoringly idolizing and embracing" their items, rarely returning the stolen goods. (They don't see it as stealing.) "ZealotsReturn"


	22. Chapter 21

**Chapter Nineteen:**Lost Souls

Ash didn't even blink when the scenery changed around him, when he was suddenly on a high hill somewhere in the world. He was also not surprised at the change of clothes he now had on: a dark cape, a loose tunic, plane pants, and leather boots. Instead, he looked up into the clear night sky at the stars. Behind him Ash could hear the soft crunch of the ground. "What do you want, Dmitri?"

"I want nothing," the man responded, stepping closer.

"Then why are you here?"

He grinned. "I am but obeying orders."

"About what?"

"Why do you ask questions to which you already know the answers?"

"Maybe I'm wrong." He looked back up at the sky, at the bright stars.

"You're not. Probably, anyway," Dmitri shrugged.

"I know."

"You should return. It would be for the best interest."

"For whom?"

"Everyone."

"I have no reason to go back. I won the battle."

"Would you win again?"

At that Ash gave no response, other than to ask Dmitri. "Well, would I win if I were to battle again?"

"I don't know."

Ash turned his head to look at him. "If I knew what would have happened before I went to those mountains, I never would have gone." There was a soft pain in his voice.

"You would have if you were alone," he countered smugly. "That you would have done."

He had to admit it. "Yes."

"Just as Trainer Gary Oak would do if you weren't a part of the picture."

"You just leave him alone," Ash snapped.

"Why? He is such delightful bait," Dmitri laughed. "You would go only to stop the battles, and try to prepare him. But no one prepared you." Dmitri paused. "You will, of course, return."

"And why is that?"

Dmitri grinned. "Because we want you to."

Ash gave a hollow laugh. "And that's going to convince me?"

"You didn't let me finish."

He glared at Dmitri. "Finish, then."

"Did Miriam receive a letter recently?" he asked, avoiding giving a straight answer.

Ash growled. "_That_ was a dirty trick."

"Trick, he says. We play no tricks in the Constellation League."

"Yeah, right," he scoffed, turning to look away from the messenger.

Dmitri mused thoughtfully for a moment. "You know, Endallah can be very reasonable, under the right motivation."

The statement had the desired effect. Ash gasped and froze, turning quickly, eyes wide. "What the Hell are you saying?"

"Not that we caught the Pokémon, for sure," Dmitri grinned.

"You can't be serious."

"I am. Deadly. No, wait wrong adverb. Maybe lively?"

"You brought her back to life?" Ash screeched, grabbing him by the shirt. "What are you, playing God?!"

Dmitri removed the hands psychically. "Well, if you would prefer, we can stop 'playing God', as you call it."

Ash opened him mouth, then stopped when the blunt realization hit him.

"It would be your call," Dmitri continued softly. "Your . . . fault, one way or another." He deliberately used the words he did, knowing the guilt Ash still had.

"You . . . bastards," Ash hissed, turning around quickly and biting his knuckle.

"Well?" Dmitri asked once a fair amount of time had passed. "Your choice?"

"She should be dead, shouldn't she?"

"That was the way the test was originally set up."

"Then why isn't she?"

"Do you want her to be?"

Ash turned his head away quickly. "Just answer my question," he ordered savagely.

"How else would it be assured that you would return? It was quite obvious after we thought about if for a moment. You took off to rapidly, so dangerously, that the answer of why you left would be the self-same as why you would return."

"Why?" Ash demanded. "Why is having me stay there so damn important?"

Dmitri narrowed his eyes. "You know the answer to that, Trainer." He paused. "Let me show you something," he said, pointing to the sky.

Ash looked up into the sky, eyes intent for any motion. The stars still shined their light down to the miniscule Earth, and he saw no change no matter how hard he looked until it was near the end. Then he saw it, a tiny pinprick moving closer and closer. By the Law of Perspectives, the light should have been getting bigger as it neared, but at each new distance it remained the same. Dmitri held out his hand, and Ash watched mutely as the light moved to rest on the palm. It was no bigger than a grain of sand, and it shone no brighter than what it had in the sky.

"What is it?"

"For anyone who does die in the Constellation League, the eternal resting ground is the sky. I will give you three guesses as to whose, umm, I suppose soul would be a good word to use, although this is nothing religious, in that sense. Yes, whose soul I hold it. And the first two really don't count." Ash stood speechless. Dmitri saw him staring, knowing what it was, and blew the grain away without a word. Both Ash and the lost soul itself were helpless to save the light as it spiraled and whirled about. "There are _many_ reasons why we are called the Constellation League."

Ash looked away again, watching as the speck returned to the sky, wondering how many other souls were trapped up there. He felt sick. "Did it ever occur to you I am not one for your Trainers, nor will I ever be? They gave up something they never should have to be the best, and it made them the worst. They're not even Trainers."

"So you perceive," Dmitri shrugged. "Did it ever occur to you that you only see us like that only because she helped you see it. Otherwise you wouldn't have noticed, would have been like us, and have come much more willingly. And sooner." The eyes blinked casually as Ash's face contorted with quiet fury. "You will return."

"That is debatable." He knew, and Dmitri knew, he was lying. Ash looked away again. "I promised I'd never go back," he said quietly. "I keep my word."

"And we keep ours."

Ash snorted. "Yeah, right."

Dmitri paused, then laughed. "I see your strategy, now. You are avoiding answering the question of whether or not young Shamin lives. Well? What is your answer?"

Ash said nothing, turning away, not allowing himself to choose sides, to admit and be used like this. Gus was right. They did attack your weaknesses.

The messenger smiled knowingly. "Your choice, your fault." Then he snapped his fingers, returning them back to the Ketchum yard.


	23. Chapter 22

**Chapter Twenty:**Choices Already Made

"Ash!" Mrs. Ketchum yelled, enveloping him in a tight hug, afraid that she had lost him again.

"I'm all right, Mom," he murmured, hugging back because he knew she needed it. And he sure as Hell did too. Pikachu was hugging his ankle.

"I accept your challenge," Gary snapped, believing that Ash had been taken away in order to force him into making a decision.

"Excellent," Dmitri said, taking the hand. "Ash can show you the way. I'm sure he will be going along."

"I . . . didn't say I would return," Ash got out.

"No, no, you didn't," Dmitri admitted.

"We're going with Gary," Brock added, indicating Tracey and Misty.

At that, Dmitri blinked, but Ash spoke first. "No. No, you can't. Anyone who enters Constellation _has_ to compete. No matter what."

There was a rush of protests, but Dmitri held up his hand, a smile on his face. "Maybe we can make an exception. They may come, but they may not witness the battles. How about that?"

"Agreed," Misty said stoutly.

"Will you be going with them, Ash?" Mrs. Ketchum asked. "I can start packing your stuff—"

"I'm not going," he said with finality, but forcing the words out with a crowbar. "What's done is done, and I won't be one to change it."

Dmitri's face froze, and he looked at the group. And then he smiled when he saw Miriam and Pyro, who were both glaring at him. "I'll inform Shamin of your decision, then."

Miriam's eyes lit up. "She's dead," she growled.

"Not at present. She is very much alive, for the moment." Dmitri smiled at Ash. "It is why I was hunting for Ash. It appears that she was just stunned . . . heavily. I do hope she is in a condition to see you when you arrive."

"Pi?" Pikachu got out, looking at Ash, who looked away from her.

"Then we're goin', too! When are we leavin'?" Pyro was looking at Pikachu and Ash. Something was going on, and he and Rodent were going to talk about it later on. Actually, that probably would be a waste of time, considering her curious look towards Blondie. _He_, Pyro decided, who be the one to question.

"As soon as possible," Gary answered. "Now, maybe."

"_No, no, no!_ "Miriam, you can't leave. You're on tour," Ash reminded her, stalling for time to think of an idea. If Miriam was going, he couldn't just . . . just kill Shamin.

Her lips moved. "Damn," she muttered. "How about in two months? Give Blondie time to help ya," she said to Gary, sounding like she was pleading, but Ash could tell that if Gary said no, the two were going to talk out the differences later. Well, Miriam would be doing most of the talking.

Gary nodded, not actually reading the body language she was sending him, but that it made sense. "Agreed."

"Wonderful," Dmitri smiled, seeing Ash totally trapped. "And, Ash, if you are not with them on the journey, I trust we can take your answer as a no?"

Ash nodded helplessly, looking away towards the direction in which the Dark Mountains were in. "It'll take them a month to get there, if they keep up a good pace. If Miriam's going along, well, maybe two." Miriam smirked at him.

"You're not going?" Tracey asked.

Dmitri smiled. "We'll have to see. Anyway, I will see you all in a few months?" And, with a gust of wind, he dissolved and floated away towards the mountains.

Ash sat in his room, packing his bag with care. _This couldn't possibly get worse_, he thought as he folded his pants with forced calmness and slipped them inside the backpack. He stood up and walked over to the dresser, opening it up to get a clean shirt and some socks. Carefully, he picked up the socks and pulled them apart. One dropped to the top of the dresser, and he fingered the lining of one. A thread was loose, and he pulled it, and pulled, and pulled.

A knock at the door broke him out of his reverie. "Come in," he sighed, breaking the string.

Miriam opened the door to see Ash refolding his socks and placing them in a bag. "Goin' somewhere?" she asked suspiciously.

"Yeah. I'm going to my dad's for awhile."

"Aren't ya goin' to help Gary with his trainin'?"

Ash paused, then continued to pack. He should stay and help Gary. Dammit, he should. "If he thinks he needs it. He'll have to ask, though."

Miriam sighed, then started to look around the room. "Nice décor. Looks like early childhood."

"Thanks."

She picked up a stuffed Caterpie and started to walk around the room, poking her nose where it probably didn't belong, opening drawers, peeking over shelves, glancing in the closet, that sort of thing. Hey, if it didn't have a lock on it, it was fair game, as far as Miriam was concerned. "Hey, what's in here?" she asked, kicking a box.

Ash glanced over. "Just some trophies and badges," he sighed, pulling the cord to close the bag.

"Mind if I see?" Miriam asked, although she was already throwing off the toys and pulling the box out.

"Please, don't make a mess," he sighed as she opened the box and started to dig.

"Hey, I remember this one!" she laughed, admiring the Ratwa trophy, then setting it down to dig deeper. "I didn't know you got a trophy from the Pooka League."

Ash sighed, picking up the trophy and tracing the detailed pattern. "I think Gus decided to make one for me. It was a special delivery." _And he probably put a lot of work into it_, Ash added mentally. He had stopped to personally thank the League Master after Shamin had . . . died. He sighed, setting the trophy on a high shelf.

"Why don'tcha have them displayed?" Miriam asked, holding up the Indigo League trophy and admiring it (or her reflection). It was easily the largest, as the other Leagues he had gone to didn't hold winning with such high importance. Well, at least by handing out trophies. They believed a Trainer that won their League should be given a large compensation for their time. It was almost like a proportion: the smaller the trophy, the high winnings would be. And, at a loss, the greater the price . . .

He didn't answer, making it seem like it didn't matter to him. Truth was, it didn't matter that he won the Leagues. It didn't, not anymore. Shit, he loved the few moments after he won other battles, but when he lost Shamin, it had been his fault. He barely had the heart to battle Gary when we played Indigo those months back, but he couldn't just lose.

"Hey, look, the Constellation League thingies," Miriam grinned, opening the case and poking at the rather plain badges. They were, for the most part, a stick figure or similar. "Not much on cost, huh? Oww!" She sucked the end of her finger, which was now bleeding after she ran it along the edge of one.

Ash took the box away from her and looked at the badges, remembering the particular Battle and Trainer he'd had to face to get it. It had been more than the want to win that got these badges. It had also been the want to live. He scowled at the rules of the League.

"Ya don't have a trophy for Constellation?" she asked, peeking in the box again.

"They don't give out a trophy," Ash responded. Like a proportion . . .

Miriam sighed, leaning back on her legs to look at all the trophies. Then, she scooped them all up and arranged them on the dresser, right where everyone could see them. "Shamin was really proud of ya, ya know? She always wrote—well, when she was travelin' with _ya—_and told me with explicit details of what happened. A lot more than yar letters did." She grinned. "Ya are goin' to come with us, right?"

He shrugged, running his fingers over each of the badges. "I haven't decided."

"How can ya not go?" Miriam demanded. "Shamin probably really misses ya and stuff."

"I said I haven't decided," he said in a tight voice, struggling to control his emotions.

"Ya know, I glad she's all right," she smiled, leaning against the wall, watching Ash set the badges down. "I can't really wait to see her. Tempted to drop the tour, but I can't, ya know. Like I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place."

"Know exactly how you feel."

"Ya know, ya did lie to me," Miriam said reproachfully.

"I'm sorry." Ash closed his eyes. He had lied to her, but it was the best move he could make.

"I know why ya did, too. Ya'd think I'd blame myself."

Ash turned slightly. "I was right."

"Ya have no Pysch degree, Blondie," Miriam snapped. "I pushed her into goin', I'll admit that." Her eyes moistened. "And when ya told me that . . . that bloody lie, I did blame myself. I cursed myself for bein' such an idiot to trust her under yar care. But I got over it, Blondie. Cuz I knew ya'd probably done everythin' ya could have done. I may strike ya as irrational, but I *** as Hell have more sense than ya do! Ya should have just told me plain Truth." Her eyes narrowed. "Ya did get a lot better at lyin', I have to admit."

"Thank you."

"That was no compliment."

"I know it wasn't." Ash looked at her. "Miriam, I did what I thought was best."

"Ya're goin' to tell me what happened."

Ash closed his eyes, tears biting them. "Someday." _Maybe. Maybe not._

They stood in silence, Miriam watching Ash run his hand along each trophy. He paused at the Indigo League one, then picked it up, running his hand along its profile. "It's nice—whoa!" She jumped when he arched his arm and threw it against the wall, separating the figure from the base. "What are ya doin'?"

Ash didn't answer, throwing trophy another trophy and another against the walls until all of them were broken.

"Does that make ya feel better?" Miriam demanded to his back, having stayed out of his rage for ideas of her own safety. "What'd ya do it for? Dammit, ya know Shamin liked lookin' at them, and I bet they made yar mom proud as punch!"

He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. "See ya, Miriam," he croaked, walking out the door as Miriam picked up one of the figurines that had sat on the top of a trophy.

"Is everything all right, pumpkin?" Mrs. Ketchum asked, coming up the stairs. "I heard something crash."

"It's all right, Mom," Ash smiled, hanging his head so his mom couldn't see his eyes. "I'll give you a call when I get to Dad's."

"Okay." The smile Mrs. Ketchum wore was as fake as a fast Slowpoke. She didn't want her son to leave her sight, or to travel further than a five minutes' walk. Ash nodded, pecked her on the cheek, and then left.

"Hey, Blondie!" Miriam called, still holding the figure.

"He just left, Miriam," Mrs. Ketchum sniffed. "What happened up there?"

Miriam looked at the mother, and decided saying that Blondie'd had a mental breakdown was not the best thing to inform her upon. "Somethin' fell. A lot of somethin's," she smiled, holding the trophy piece behind her back. "I was just gonna beat his head in for makin' me clean it up." Which now she'd have to, now, or otherwise the mother would find out about her son's unstable condition.

"Oh, okay. Would you like something to eat?"

It was raining in Ziganka when Ash and Pikachu got off the bus, having taken a plane over the ocean. Pikachu shook herself under the rain, causing a small shower herself. "Pika," she sighed.

"Come here," Ash smiled, bending down so that she could leap into them. He slipped her under his coat and then continued to walk down the sidewalk. No one else was out in the downpour, this late at night.

"Pikapi?" Pikachu started.

"I really don't want to talk now, Pikachu," he pleaded. "I just want to get into a warm house and slip into a bath. All right?"

She tilted her ears. "Pi."

Ash walked slowly, not avoiding walking in any puddles. By the time he reached the Ketchum doorstep almost an hour later, he was soaked to the bone and looked like a drowned Rattata. He knocked, hoping someone was still up. He waited a few moments, knocked again, louder, then tried the doorbell. He sighed despondently, figuring he had placed his hopes too high and turned to leave, when a light flickered on and a sound came from the inside.

"Hel—Ash, what are you doing here?" Mr. Ketchum got out, blinking the work-related-definitely-reading-too-many-reports tiredness from his eyes. He hadn't been aware that his son was sending time here, assuming that he would stay with his mother, that she wouldn't even let him leave her sight. "Get in, get in. Hello, Pikachu," he smiled as the mouse escaped her Trainer's coat and shook herself dry.

"Kapi!" she greeted as Ash slipped off his coat, draping it over his arm. The carpeting below him was soaked through already.

"What are you doing here?" Mr. Ketchum repeated, and Ash shrugged, not looking up. The father sighed. Part of Ash was still the thirteen-year-old: idealistic, messed-up, confused, immature, and facing earth-shattering changes. "You should have called. I would have picked you up at the airport. Go change. I can't let you catch cold. Your mother would kill me if you did. And, you, little mouse, there's some biscuits in the kitchen for you."

Pikachu grinned, dashing off.

"I told you to change," Mr. Ketchum said sternly, seeing that his son was still standing there. "Toss your wet clothes down the chute so I can stick them in the dryer. I'm not going to call Carmen to come over and do that."

"Yes, Sir," Ash sniffed, wiping his nose from the said cold he wasn't supposed to get that was coming up. He kicked off his shoes and headed up stairs.

Mr. Ketchum shook his head, wondering what was going on, running a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. Pikachu came waddling in, a tower of biscuits in her paws. "Chu, Pikapi?"

He sighed, raising an eyebrow at her tower of a snack. She smiled shyly, noticing that she must seem like a real pig, and offered him one, but Mr. Ketchum decided to turn it down.

Ash sank deeply into the hot water, stopping just below his eyes and allowing the warmth to seep into his skin, bones, and tight muscles. For some the water would have been too hot, scalding, but Ash liked it that _warm_ when he attempted to relax. He leaned back and closed his eyes, trying not to think.

There was a scratch at the door a few moments later, and then moved a bit to allow the yellow fur blob to slip in. "Pi," Pikachu chirped, leaning against the tub and offering him a biscuit. They were really tasty.

"Thanks," Ash smiled, talking it and allowing his hand to drape over the edge, not eating it. He closed his eyes again. He could almost fall asleep . . . almost. A splash brought him back to the moment. "What?"

She grinned deviously, tapping the water again.

"Go annoy my dad," Ash sighed. "I'll be out. In an hour or so."

Pikachu shook her head, sliding down to rest on the carpet, falling asleep. Ash petted her ears.

He rubbed his hair vigorously with a towel, stepping out of the bathroom. Pikachu was still sleeping in a steamy warm bathroom. Ash stretched, tightening the robe and walking down the hall towards his old room. Flipping on the light, the room looked at same as he had left it, whether it had been last month or those years before. He smiled slightly, slipped off the robe and into a pair a sweat pants, and collapsed onto bed, hand digging into his pack off-handedly.

Another knock at the door stopped him.

"It's open, Dad," he called, not getting up.

His father came in, carrying a glass of water. "Do you need someone to tuck you in?" he smiled.

Ash turned his head. "If you want," he sighed. Then he pushed himself up, talking the water his father offered. "Thank you."

"So why'd you decide to come here? Your mother over your shoulder too much—don't tell her I said that," he asked, picking up the discarded robe (everything has a place), placing it on the hook, and taking a seat.

His son shrugged, taking a sip. "No more than usual."

"I called her, you know. She thought you called me and told me you were coming here." Ash paused. "Oh, I covered for you."

"Thanks."

Mr. Ketchum waved a hand. "So what happened?"

"Nothing," Ash said softly.

"Your mother said that a League representative had stopped by and asked if you were going to go back to the mountains, if I remember correctly. Didn't you say you didn't want to go back?"

His father had a great memory. "Yes," Ash sighed, lying back down and covering his eyes with his forearm. "I don't have much of a choice, though."

"Why?"

"Because the League is run by a spoiled, God-playing bastard. And '_It's rules,'_" he added mockingly.

"What is?" Mr. Ketchum asked, crossing his arms over the back of the seat and leaning down to rest his chin on them.

"It's under rules that, win or lose, you stay. So they say. Not that you have much choice if you lose, anyway."

"And why is that?"

There were two answers to two questions Ash could give. Ash raised his arm and looked at his father, only seeing pure interest. Ash wasn't going to leap out and say his father didn't know what kind of trap he had put Ash in, but neither would he say he did know. He pushed himself up into a sitting position. "The Constellation League's a fuck, Dad. You either survive it or you don't. They don't like Trainers who can't take it, and they hold no qualms under their tests of murder."

His father's eyes never flickered from their interested sheen.

"If you win, they want you to stay. I decided to take the want as something to their wishes, something I didn't have to actually obey. And, as far as customs are concerned, I'm in the right. It's just that this League's Master—" Ash faltered. He couldn't continue, not here and now. "The League's a joke, a fake, a delusion. That is not Pokémon battling. That's some sick thing's idea of entertainment. And Honor."

His father nodded, then turned his head to watch a staggering Pikachu, wiping one of her eyes with her paw, enter the room. "Ka," she complained to Ash.

"I didn't want to wake you," he explained, picking her up and setting the mouse on his lap, petting her. She dozed off soon enough.

"You know, it's not rare to see a kid outside with a Pokémon these days. Not exactly welcomed, but not exactly rare either," his father said.

Ash raised his eyes, surprised. "Really?" Actually, now that he thought about it, he shouldn't have been so surprised. He had walked Pikachu when they had stopped by before, having not given a damn to the thought of the protests he would be receiving, as everyone knew he was (cue the tone of disapproval) "the Ketchum boy". He remembered several of the younger kids asking if they could pet her before their mothers came to drag them off.

In fact, come to think about it, he had _had_ several requests for a battle as well, and, while he had stopped at a café, a boy had talked to him about Pokémon. When he had actually left the house, people had known who he was, and not as "the Ketchum boy." Someone—some girl, if Ash remembered correctly—had even called in the League winner. Ash had thought curiously that it was strange that they knew that at the time, but he really didn't give it much thought. He must have been really out of it, but Ash recalled many of the reporters he had been concerned with at the time. He hadn't actually battled though, for he hadn't brought any Pokémon along, aside from Pikachu, and she was rarely next to him when he walked. But, shit, how could he have missed all that? Hadn't being a Trainer taught him _anything?_

His father smiled. "Maybe if you hadn't sulked so much, you would have seen it."

Ash snapped out of his reverie. "I wasn't sulking."

Mr. Ketchum chuckled. "It's been a slow process over the last few years, ever since that group came out that used Pokémon for their acts. A couple of the teenagers and pre-teens went to the concert, and then decided they wanted one. They managed to get a Caterpie from the forest, I think. And you should have seen the riots and protests from that harmless thing. Protests and riots, might I add, that I was dragged into because of you. And then it evolved into the thing that just _sits_ there and stares. And then a Butterfree, which enjoyed floating around gardens and visiting them at school."

"Bet Headmaster Dell loved that," Ash smiled. _I'll have to tell Miriam about the profound impact Pyro's having_.

"Of course he did. The students could always claim that the Butterfree—I think its name is Miriam—is something wrong?" he asked when his son snorted, and started to snigger in his hand.

"Go on," Ash got out, making a mental note to inform Miriam of _that_ turn of events. She despised Butterfree because they got powder on her clothes and enjoyed sniffing her hair because of the hair spray she used.

Mr. Ketchum smiled. "They claimed that any time they fell asleep in class, the Butterfree had used Sleep Powder on them."

"I bet it didn't get them out of detention."

"No, it didn't." He brought his hands together and leaned back on the chair. "Do you know why I told you that?"

"To show me that there is some hope for this city?"

He raised an eyebrow. "To show you, that even if someone truly despises something, it can grow on them over time."

"Not this League," Ash spat darkly.

"You didn't let me finish," Mr. Ketchum reprimanded. This time Ash raised an eyebrow. "Do you know how much I hated going to those meetings about those kids, sticking up for them against their own parents?"

Ash looked at his father, speechless for a good minute. "You did what?"

He waved a hand, dismissing the question. "I hated going to them, but I went, because what was going on was wrong. I knew it. Of course, I did agree with the logic, but it was still wrong." He paused. "Did you know that I still feed your ParriKeets? Well, some of them are Parrette now. And they are a chore, an expensive one."

Ash was quiet, looking at his father as if he had never seen the man before. He ran his hand over Pikachu's ears absently. "You do?"

Mr. Ketchum nodded. "I was thinking about building a house up on the roof for them when Winter comes along. Bit too much?"

"N-no, I don't think so."

"I mean, I had to feed them. They never shut up when I don't, and they'd just sit on the sills of the window where I work, and you can't eat when something looks at your food like that. I mean, they just stare and tweet pitifully."

"Really?"

"Well, maybe it's just me," Mr. Ketchum smiled.

"You actually stood up for Pokémon?" Ash asked after a long moment. _Against the rest of the city_? he added mentally, because his dad did have a spot for Pokémon, but only because his mother had planted the seed all those years before.

"You sound so surprised."

"You didn't stand for them for me," Ash accused.

"You didn't need me to stand behind you, did you? You would have stuck to your guns no matter what."

"It would have been nice," he muttered.

"Nice is for kindergartners. And you never asked, in any case." Mr. Ketchum spoke calmly, daring to contradict, as he leaned forward on the chair. "You preferred to go behind my back."

"Pardon?" Ash was mentally trying to remember when he stood up for anything Pokémon-related that remained behind his father's back. Usually after whatever he had done, there had been some sort of police involvement or meeting.

Mr. Ketchum smiled, looking out the window. A Nochowl flew by, sat on one of the Parrette perches, and started to stare in with its golden brown eyes. Ash felt like it seemed like the bird had done this several times before, and he couldn't help but wonder how many other Pokémon his father took care of. "I came home from work late when it was exceedingly cold out for that time of the year, and everyone had been asleep." He rubbed his chin, remembering walking in the quiet and dark house. Ash rested his elbow on his knee, waiting for the story to continue.

"And?"

"I went in to tuck you in." He grinned at the raised eyebrows Ash gave. "I did it all the time. Although that night it was the first time I did see Pikachu sleeping next to you.

"I was quite surprised, to say the least, not to mention upset. Had a damn good mind to wait you up and demand how long she had been here, but I didn't, because of the same reason. You had only been here about a month, and we didn't need another war. And I figured you'd tell me when you got around to trusting me." He sighed. "You never did."

Ash looked away. "So you knew the whole time?" he asked, scratching Pikachu's ear.

"I never did ask why we always seemed to be out of ketchup."

Maybe he should have made Pikachu go easy on the stuff, but Dad _never had _commented_._ "Yeah." Ash made a small chuckle at the irony of it. "You could have said you knew, though."

Mr. Ketchum smiled half-heartedly, standing up. "In any case, that's not the problem of today. The problem is what you're going to do about this League? I'm sure your friends don't know anything about it, and are you going to let them walk blind into it? Are you going to let it still be run?" He cocked an eyebrow at his son, knowing he had verbalized the self-same questions that ran through his son.

Ash sighed, picking up his bag and shifting through it, looking for something he found helped at times not like this. "Like I have a lot of say in it."

"Wouldn't you?"

He looked up briefly. "I don't really know," he sighed, talking his hand out of the bag, looking at the fist he had made, as if to deny that he had any problems at all, or to state that he could destroy them. He could feel his nails digging into his palm.

"Still having problems?"

Ash nodded mutely. He and his father had talked about this before, which is why Ash had come here. He could talk to his father and drop appearances. He couldn't with his mom or his friends. Ash didn't know why, but he couldn't talk to them about it. If was like he was on some carefully balanced pedestal, and he could fall to his death if he did one thing wrong under their inspection, failed to meet one standard. He couldn't even talk to Pikachu about it, although she knew perfectly well.

Mr. Ketchum sighed. "Just get some sleep. It's your decision."

"Some decisions aren't even decisions."

"Welcome to the adult world." Mr. Ketchum watched as his son downed the water like he was traveling the desert. "Just so you know, as if my opinion holds any weight, I don't think you should blame yourself for her death."

Ash's shoulder gave a twinge, and he rubbed it offhandedly. "Tell that to my guilt," he muttered, lying on the bed.

Mr. Ketchum shook his head. "Could you do me one favor, if you're staying here?"

"What?"

"_Please_ cut your hair," he pleaded, flipping off the light. Ash chuckled. "I mean it. It looks terrible."

"Right, Dad," Ash murmured, petting Pikachu. He watched the door close, then suddenly said, "Hey, Dad?"

Mr. Ketchum stuck his head back in. "Yeah?"

"I'm keeping a Pokémon hidden from you, just so ya know. Might want to stock up on ketchup." He wrapped the blanket around himself, preparing to slowly drift off into sleep. "Good night."

Mr. Ketchum shook his head, closing the door softly. "Good night."


	24. Author's Note! PLEASE READ!

Hey guys it's me Lee Clark, I'm going to be updating whenever I can, I'm going to really busy with school, work, and other things, so I'll update when I can. I am currently working on chapter 21 and will post it when it's finished. Thank you all for your reviews, and just to clarify, I have not stolen anything from Kim Hoppy, I just took over for her. So I'd appreciate it if everyone would just stop calling me a thief and a liar. Once again I'll update when I can. That's all for now, bye.


	25. Chapter 25

Another Authors Note

Hey guys, I'm trying to overcome a huge writer's block for the next chapter, so if anyone has any idea's please don't hesitate to offer them. I'll try to update soon.


	26. Another Author's Note

Hey guys it's me Li, I'm sorry I haven't updated in a while but I have been busy and I also got writer's block real bad. I'm thinking of ending the story right here and picking it up in another installment. If you guys think that that's a good idea drop me a review and let me know.

Thanks your faithful servant: Li Clark


	27. And Yet Another note

Hey guys it's me Li, I'm sorry I haven't been on in a while. With Christmas here and everything, things have been a bit hectic around here. I'm going to update as soon as possible. I'm working on another new story, I hope you guys will like it. I'm also working on a brand new story that will be making an appearance hopefully soon. Merry Christmas and God Bless.

Your fellow writer: Li Clark


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